Ranger or Princess
by Sapphire Pen Master
Summary: Christiana has never really felt like she belonged anywhere. Even as a princess over an entire kingdom. Not since her friend and protector was killed and she ran away. And now, when a ranger named Will has given her the chance to make a new life fore herself, even to have a family, her secrets threatens to tear them apart. If her past does not do it first.
1. Unwilling

Prologue

"I want to come with you," Christiana said, catching Airic, her head body guard, by the arm.

Airic turned and looked down at her, his eyes softening as he looked down into her green eyes.

"Not this time, little Princess," he said, ruffling her hair.

She ducked away from under his hand. "I am not that little anymore," she pointed out.

He considered her for a moment. She had just turned eleven recently, nine years younger than his twenty. But her large solemn eyes spoke of a much older person, a young woman with the experience of her lifetime.

"You will always be the little Princess to me, Crissie."

She scowled. "Ever since Nanna died you have been acting strange. Going away for days without telling me where you are, getting more men to guard me when you know I do not appreciate it, and constantly acting like an over protective parent."

He grinned. "Someone needs to, since your parents do not bother."

She looked away. For a moment she did not speak.

"Just make sure you come back," she murmured, so quietly that he hardly heard her.

He sighed and came down on one knee in front of her, putting a strong hand on her shoulder and gently turning her to face him. Her large, green eyes held her unspoken concern and fear for him.

"I will always come back, my Princess. I will never leave you."

She gazed at him for a moment. "Then swear it."

He heard the gravity behind her voice. She knew that his word was his law. He could not break it anymore than he could raise a hand against her.

"I swear it."

Her body relaxed and she smiled. He smiled back and drew her into a warm embrace before standing and walking to the door.

"I will be back," he said over his shoulder.

She smiled. "I know."

He was gone.

She would never see him again.

Chapter 1

Unwilling

"Is it true?" she asked her parents desperately. "Did you really order Airic's imprisonment?"

"Your useless, good for nothing body guard? Yes."

"Why? What did he do?"

"He was caught with a band of known rebels, Cristiana, enough said," her father said curtly, looking at her fear filled face with cold, uncaring eyes.

"So? It could have been just a coincidence. He could have just run into them," her voice becoming shrill with desperation to make her father see that Airic had to be let go.

"He attacked the soldiers when they dragged one of the rebels away."

Christiana stared.

"I want to see him," she demanded.

The king was already turning away.

"Father!" she cried. He paused.

"I have never asked anything of you, but I do now. Please, let me see him."

"I cannot. He was executed this morning."

His words hit her like a sledge hammer. Her breath seemed to have been stolen from her lungs, her eyes swam as tears filled them and a dull roaring filled her ears.

"No," she whispered, "no, no, no, no."

"You are sympathetic to your body guard?"

She could not answer.

"Well then you can join him."

Her father's claw like hands grabbed onto her shoulders and shoved her backwards. As she stumbled back the marble walls of the castle disappeared, replaced with wooden stage in the harsh sunlight. The rough callused hands of the soldiers grabbed her and forced her to kneel in front of the execution block. As the man with the black hood raised a mighty, gleaming axe she caught a glimpse of a body in a cart, a familiar empty sword belt at the waist and the hands clenched into fists.

Airic.

The axe sliced downwards. She felt the cold steel against her neck…

Christiana sat bolt upright, cold sweat falling down her face. Her dark hair tangled and knotted from sleep. A cry of fear and loss threatened to emerge unbidden to her lips but she quickly slapped a hand over her mouth to stop the sound. It would not do for the men in the camp to hear her and come to investigate while she was in this state.

Her breath came in ragged pants as she looked around the simple tent. She had fallen off her sleeping cot onto the floor, dirt smeared across her arms and face where her damp skin had come in contact with the dirt.

It had been a nightmare, as well as a memory all in one. Yes, she had confronted her father, and yes he had told her that Airic had been imprisoned and then executed. Airic, her dearest friend, her protector, a brother, uncle, father and mentor to her, the only one that had really cared for her besides her nurse maid.

But no, she had not been executed, obviously, though her father had threatened as much when she had screamed her hate and loss at him.

A silent sob shook her body and a single tear ran down her cheek, but that was all she allowed to get past her self control. She would not let her emotions get out of hand or they would drive her to insanity.

_I will be back. _His voice echoed inside her head_._

A bitter, miserable laugh choked past her throat. What a stupid promise she had force him to make, saying a promise he could not keep, his word broken even as he had spoken it.

She shoved the thought away and got to her feet, taking deep breaths to still her pounding heart and trembling fingers.

With quick graceful hands she tied up her hair, shook out her rough blanket and folded it neatly on the bed. For a moment she imagined her grand room back at the palace and laughed hoarsely. If her father could see her now, a princess, covered in dirt, sleeping on a hard cot in a canvas tent, wearing simple homespun cloth.

And in a camp of cut throat bandits.

She sobered at the thought and sighed. It wasn't as if she had planned this, when she ran away from home. In fact it was the last thing she imagined.

Gathering some things she opened the flap and hurried out the camp into the trees, easily sneaking past the sleepy sentries on duty.

Silent as a shadow she made her way to the nearby creek. As quickly as she could she cleaned off the residue of the sweat and grime, scrubbing furiously at her skin as if she could scrub the memory of the nightmare away.

She touched her chest, making sure the bandages there still bound her chest tightly flat. It would not do for her to be discovered as a girl.

She had long since become and expert at disguising herself. Airic taught her when she was nine and she had been keeping her identity a secret ever since she had run away from home two years ago. She had learned the hard way that it was easier, and a great deal safer, for a boy to be traveling alone than a girl. She no longer had to worry about someone recognizing her as the princess of Elendor, not here in this country of Araluen, so far away from her kingdom that very few people from either countries knew that the other existed.

For a moment she stared at the rippling water, remembering her one and a half years out at sea, working as a cabin boy. It had been hard dangerous work but it had made her strong. Besides, there was a certain beauty about a ship as it sliced with ease through the sparkling waves, watching the sun sick in the west and the feel of complete freedom, the rest of the world was shut out, no one could reach them, no one could order them to do something that they did not want to.

Until the ship was wreck.

The storm that had capsized her ship was the reason she was here, among a group of thieves and murders. They had pulled her from the waves and she had already committed too much to them before she realized who they really were and what they did.

She could leave. It would be quiet easy. In fact she was planning to, and soon. However she could not leave with a clear conscience. If she was patient, if she waited, then she would soon have the information she needed to wipe them out, or give someone else the chance at least.

She was so close.

She sighed and stood, putting her things in a pouch and stringing her bow.

There was no good dwelling on it. There was nothing she could do yet. Not until Watharen left, leaving his youngest son, the idiot Brent, in charge.

Stalking into the woods she bagged a pheasant and a couple rabbits, just so she had an excuse to be out of camp so early in the morning.

As she walked into camp, the game tossed over her shoulder the men gave her a wide berth. They all knew her as Cris, the young slight lad who had the confidence and skill of a fully trained warrior and a temper to match.

Only one man drew near her: Leven, Watharen's oldest son. She stopped as the dark young man approached her.

The young man could easily be considered handsome. With long shoulder length, dark blonde hair that he kept in a pony tail, as she did hers, a strong jaw, skin darkened by sun and white teeth. If it wasn't for his eyes, so dark they were almost black and as cold as a winter night. He moved with all the grace and surety of a stalking wolf, his sword and daggers ready to bite into any throat of anyone who tried to cross him.

Out of everyone in camp, she feared Leven the most. Watharen was mean, cruel and a good tactician but he was arrogant and had a fiery temper greater than her own. Leven, however, was cold, calculating and cunning. You had no idea what he was thinking of what he could be planning. He was the thief in the night, the crook who waited in the shadows to creep up behind you and slip a knife between your ribs.

She returned his cool gaze and nodded. Leven nodded back. The two of them hated each other, but they both respected, and feared, each other. To Leven, Chris was a threat to his position as second in command.

"My father has orders for you."

Christiana paused, dropping the game on the table in front of the cook's tent.

"Are you going to tell me what he wants?"

The dark young man bared his teeth in a savage grin.

"Seems like we are going on a raid together. Just you and me."

He heart sank. Just the two of them, with no one to distract his cold gaze from her. The thought of being alone with him for any length of time sent chills of dread coursing through her body, filling her veins with splinters of ice.

"What are we raiding?" she said curtly as she made her way through the tents toward Watharen's command pavilion. He followed close behind.

"Seems like the villages in the area have become ungrateful. After we go through all the trouble to relieve them of all that unnecessary supplies that the kingdom keeps sending they turn around and try and get rid of us. They sent for one of their peacekeepers."

"And..?"

He shrugged. "We're going after him before he can come after us."

She didn't answer for a moment. This was exactly the kind of thing she had been dreading. Being sent to capture or even kill the very people that wanted the same thing she did, to destroy this organization or rouges.

She would have to think of something before they got to him, fast.

"Very well," she murmured as she approached the tent.

"Excellent. Young Cris, we're going Ranger hunting."

**My first Fanfiction. Hope you enjoyed it. Sorry that it is not very exciting right now but I promise it will be later on. I will try and post a chapter every week. I would love if you would review, just to let me know that someone has read it and my time has not been wasted.**


	2. Hunting the Hunter

Chapter 2

Hunting the Hunter

Christiana sat lightly in the saddle of the pony she was using. She was a skilled rider, even better than she was at archery and far better than her woodsmen-ship, but she didn't trust the creature under her one bit. His name was Thorn and he aspired to live up to his name. He was a constant thorn in her side, alternating between being a lazy dolt, to doing exactly as she asked, to trying to throw her every few seconds.

She missed Sunflower and Storm. The two horses she had had while she had been in Elendor. Sunflower had been her first horse that Airic had carefully chosen for her when she was first learning to ride. She had been a beautiful, even tempered, palomino that had carried her with care and never tried to throw her, partly because the mare had been getting along in her years. As Sunflower had aged Airic had helped her train Storm. A spirited young colt that was a dark, stormy gray with an ink black mane, tail, stockings and muzzle. It had been a long and difficult process, training him, but once they had become friends they had been like one, flawlessly moving together as he raced over the ground, jumping and weaving around obstacles.

But when she had fled her home, she was unable to bring him with her.

Pushing the thought away she looked around as they rode into the little village. It was bigger than most. It had its own market place, nestled in the middle of a number of small hovels. However most of the population lived on farms on the outskirts. They had passed many of them on the way here.

Leven swore softly, raining his horse in beside her. "Where in the world are we going to find a ranger among this dump."

She turned her head from side to side, looking around.

"What did you say they look like again?"

"Rangers always carry a bow and quiver of arrows. They have an unusual scabbard, made to hold two knifes one larger than the other. They wear cloaks that are molted grayish green." He laughed darkly. "Some people say they were sorcerers, able to disappear at will."

She scowled. "You had better hope that in not true or we will never find him."

Leven smirked and he dug his heals cruelly into the sides of his horse to make it move forward. When he didn't hear hooves following he turned.

She had dismounted and was walking toward one of the stalls. Scanning the goods she found what she was looking for, spices, things that the bandits had been careful to raid for.

"Not many spices," she commented to the stall's keeper, a short, pudgy man with a ruddy face. "Do you have anymore?"

The man scowled. "There are precious little spices to be had of late, lad. What you see is what you get."

"Why so few?"

She was aware of Leven's eyes boring into her back.

"We have had bandit trouble."

"So I've heard. But can it be that bad? Me and my brother were able to travel the road here safely enough?" she waved her hand toward Leven.

The stall keeper's face darkened further.

"These are not regular bandits, boy. They don't prey on simple travelers. They raid the caravans that come through here, bringing supplies to us and the sea port farther on," he leaned forward, getting over his irritation in the telling of his tale. "We folk have started calling them the Ravens. Always dressed in black, filching whatever pleases them."

Christiana fought to keep her face looking politely interested. It was a fitting name.

He leaned back. "But their reign of terror will soon be over."

Her ears pricked. This is what she had been hoping for. "Why is that?"

"Because the Ranger in charge of this here fief has come. I saw him just the other day," he said proudly as if he had shaken the hand of the king himself. "Strange folk, them Rangers are, but when they show up in a troubled area is does not stay that way for long. You mark my words, boy. Those Ravens will be in prison or hanging by the noose before the season is out."

She shrugged. "Everyone knows about the Rangers but I haven't ever seen them. I've only heard stories that sound wildly exaggerated. Are they really that good?"

"Good?" he said incredulously. "They can shoot a fly from the air, they can track a bird in a storm and they can disappear in an instant."

She widened her eyes in shock, but inside she cringed. They were dealing with someone trained to hunt down criminals. She was a not bad woods-men, or rather woods-women, but if the Ranger was half as good as the man made out then she doubted her chances of hiding out avoiding one.

But on the other hand, if he was as good as everyone seemed to think then he should be able to get rid of the bandits.

"Is he nearby?" she asked looking around.

"Yes, he is staying just at the eastern edge of town in a small cottage."

She bit her lip as she walked away from the stall. If there was a way she could slip away from Leven then maybe she could get to the Ranger and tell him what she knew. Surely with the information she could provide he would be able to put an end to this once and for all.

Leven dismounted.

"What were you thinking? You could have revealed us."

She scowled. "You were more likely to do it then me. You cannot keep your face strait to save your life."

His scowl darkened further. She nodded toward the stall.

"How much of that did you hear?"

"Enough," he said shortly. "Enough to have come up with a plan."

Her heart seemed to sink in her chest. Curse Leven and his cunning mind. She wouldn't have time to come up with a plan of her own.

"Should we not first try and find him and make sure he is not looking around for our camp."

"Oh we are going to go look for him. And once we find him we are going to make a little scene."

He grabbed the front of her shirt and pulled her close, whispering in her ear. With each word, dread filled her.

Redmond seemed to ghost between the houses as he headed toward his hut. He had learned little concerning the bandits the villagers called the Ravens. The people were very superstitious and most of what they had told him was so mixed up with myths and stories that the facts were completely hidden.

He smiled wryly. These Ravens were hidden by the same mystery that usually hid the Rangers.

As he was nearing his home he heard an angry and hushed voice, and then a frightened one. He paused; the unseen eyes under his hood turning to the alley from which the voices had emanated. Silently he hurried forward, using the shadows that the eaves on the house cast to hide himself as he peered around the corner.

A large young man stood in the alley, sandy hair pulled back in a ponytail, falling past broad shoulders. At first he looked as if he was alone but then there was a whimper, drawing the eye to a smaller, more slender boy cowering against the wall, long dark hair also pulled back, revealing wide, scared eyes.

"You told us that there were weapons in the caravan we intercepted. You said they were not well guarded. Well, we lost half our men raiding them and there were only bags of stinking fleece," the young man snarled, voice like the scrape of sharp steel on ice.

The smaller boy trembled. "I-I-I told you I wasn't sure w-w-when that caravan was coming. I only knew it w-w-was."

"Shut up."

The boy fell silent.

"Your coming with me and you can tell your excuses to my leader. You had better hope he doesn't see through your lies as clearly as I do or you won't live to see another sunrise."

He grabbed the boy by the back of his neck like he was an ill behaved puppy and threw him out of the alley. The Ranger followed as the pair hurried out of town, the terrified boy being forced along by the young man.

His mind was ringing with excitement. Finally a lead, these two would lead him straight to the bandit's camp.

He lost sight of them in the trees. But he was not concerned; he could clearly hear them up ahead and see their path through the woods. It was harder to see the boy's tracks since the larger ones of the man overlapped them and smeared them.

As he hurried forward he shrugged off his bow and fit and arrow to the string.

It was several minutes before he heard speaking.

"We're almost there."

Silently he increased his speed…and came to the edge of a clearing.

He paused, looking carefully around. The tracks led to the far side. For a long moment he stared into the trees facing him to make sure the two he was following had not hidden in the shadows. He saw nothing and carefully stepped out into the open.

He wasn't even half way across when he heard a twig snap ahead. In one fluid motion he raised his bow and pulled back the string as the young man stepped out from behind a tree and emerged into the sunlight, holding a knife in his hand, a sneer on his face.

"Well, well, well. I didn't think you would be so easy to catch, Ranger. The Oak Leaf Corps has such a high reputation," he drawled.

The Ranger frowned. The man seemed very confident for one who was staring down a gray shafted arrow. His eyes flickered around the clearing, wondering if the man had some friends hidden in the bushes, but his keen eyes could see nothing.

"What have you done with the boy?"

"Chris?" the man chuckled. "He's behind you, pointing an arrow at your back. I can assure you that his shot is nearly as good as yours."

The Ranger froze, feeling the blood drain from his face. He had walked right into their trap. He had been far too confident and in far too much of a hurry to get this mission done.

"So you have me, what do you intend to do with me?"

The young man shrugged. "That will be for my father to decide. Drop your bow."

The Ranger hesitated, listening hard. If the boy behind him made some noise he might be able to pinpoint his location. If he could do that then he could turn and shoot at him.

As if the young man was reading his mind he grinned. "I am a fair knife thrower. You shoot at Chris, you'll have a knife in your back. You shoot at me you'll have an arrow instead. Your choice"

Finally Redmond let his shoulders slumped and tossed his bow to the ground out of his reach. The quiver of arrows followed.

"Now your knifes."

Redmond cursed. He had hoped they would come close once they thought he was unarmed then he would take them both.

Scowling he removed his double scabbard and tossed it to the ground as well.

The man watched him like a hawk. Striding forward he kicked the weapons farther out of reach.

"Chris, get down here and tie this carcass up."

"What is the point of tying up a dead man?" a voice grumbled, angry and brittle. With a strange accent that the Ranger couldn't place.

There was a rustle of leaves and the sound of feet hitting the ground then almost silent footsteps. Slender hands grabbed his arms and pulled them behind his back, swiftly tying a tight, secure knot around his wrists.

The young man reached forward with the knife and with it flipped the deep hood off the man's head.

The young man grinned as he saw Redmond's average features twisted into a scowl. "Nothing special about the Ranger's after all. I don't think we'll have any more trouble from your lot."

"The king will send another Ranger."

He got nothing but a shrug in response. "We will deal with that when it comes, as I will deal with you now."

The Ranger watched with dread as the long dagger was pulled back. The young man grinned before his arm leaped forward…and was blocked by another dagger.

The Ranger flinched in surprise as the arm that had suddenly appeared over his shoulder, dagger in hand, easily deflecting the death blow to the side.

"Leven stop," the boy named Chris's voice snapped out like a whip.

Leven turned and glared.

"You had better have a good explanation for your insubordination."

"_You _are the one who is being insubordinate. Your father asked us to bring him alive if we could, dead if we can't. It doesn't seem like it will be too much of a problem to bring him back to base now does it?" the lad asked.

"I believe him to be mistaken. We cannot afford for this man to see where are camp is. If he should escape he will bring a hundred of the king's soldiers down on us."

"Yes, but he won't escape. I'll see to that personally. As for him knowing the way, we can blindfold him."

"As if my father would trust you enough to guard his dinner, much less a prisoner," Leven snarled.

The Ranger glanced over as Chris came into view, an indifferent expression on his face.

"We can let him decide that. Besides he could be useful by other means, a hostage perhaps. Think what benefit will come when word spreads that we have captured one of the King's Rangers. And on the slight chance that we could convince him of our cause, well then we shall have a valuable addition to our band."

Leven scowled. "Very well, we will take him back to camp."

Chris nodded and picked up the weapons. Leven went up to him and pointed the knife at him. The boy tensed.

"But I warn you. If he gets away, it will be on your head. Got it?"

Chris glared at him, eyes burning.

"You couldn't be more clear, my lord," he whispered, voice dripping with scorn.

Redmond watched the exchange closely. Clearly this Chris was an important member of the bandits, important enough to have convinced Leven to change his mind. But he wasn't trusted.

Leven snorted, snatched the bow and daggers from him and stalked to the edge of the trees.

The youth approached the Ranger. As he leaned over to help the Ranger to his feet he whispered into his ear.

"I'm sorry."

Surprised Redmond looked up and for a moment saw sad green eyes looking back at him. Then they hardened before he was pulled to his feet. A rough cloth was pulled over his eyes and he saw no more.

**Thanks for reading. Please review so I know what you think. I will be trying to post a new chapter twice a week so please keep reading. If you were wondering: every time the story is from someone else's point of view Christiana is Chris to them and she is a he.**


	3. Mistrust

Chapter 3

Mistrust

"Very well. We will keep him alive," Watharen declared.

Christiana fought to keep her face impassive as the verdict was given and her stomach loosened from the knots it had been twisting itself into.

Watharen sat on a throne like chair across the tent from her. The tent was large and spacious, with a large table to the side covered in papers and scrolls, and various other things fit for a warlords command center.

Nothing in the tent, however, was as imposing as the man who sat before her.

Watharen wore his usual attire. Black breeches tucked into knee high, dark brown leather boots. A long sleeve, stark white shirt with billowing sleeves tied at the wrist, and tucked into his pants, left open slightly to show his powerful chest. A long dark cape, the color of dried blood, was fastened with silver chain at his throat. A belt studded with rubies hung around his middle.

Dark brown hair framed his face, falling to his shoulders and a beard, neatly cut, ran along his jaw line and around his mouth. With a strong jaw, strait nose and dark blue eyes under heavy eyebrows Watharen, like his son, could easily be considered a handsome man… if not for the expression on his face. His mouth was set in a hard line that somehow managed to show contempt, cruelty and distaste all at once. His eyes reminded her of the submerged caves at sea, inky black and unfathomable.

But even without his facial features, any fool could see he was dangerous. A huge sword, almost as long as she was, leaned against his chair. Every movement was smooth and controlled, never out of place. His hands were callused and large, as was the rest of him, with massive, corded arms and a torso like that of an oak tree.

"For now."

She nodded. Even his voice was attractive, deep and rich, like a boom of thunder.

The last couple hours had been tough. She had argued for keeping the Ranger alive, while at the same time acting impassive and trying not to appear desperate. Hiding her emotions was one of the things she had had to master while growing up in her father's royal court, it was something all nobility had to learn. Now, more then ever before, she was grateful for that training.

Her last point was what had done the trick, but it was by far the most desperate gamble. She had told Watharen that as a King's Ranger their prisoner would know things that others would not. He would know the land, the best places to hide, the best places to ambush, information on the kings and the workings of the army, and certain leaders, mainly things that the band could use to gain in strength and riches. The problem was that she knew next to nothing about the Rangers and if anything of what she said had been false her bluff would have been revealed.

"However Chris, he is in your hands. Food and his containment are up to you. Furthermore you cannot leave the camp with him, you cannot release him for any length of time unless I say otherwise, and you must watch him. And if he should happen to escape, well, his execution will pass on to you."

He made no effort to cover the menace in his words.

She smiled grimly to herself as she gazed steadily at him. This was why she preferred dealing with Watharen rather than Leven. Watharen scared her but he was strait forward, blunt, and did not mince his words. Leven on the other hand was as slippery as and eel. Watharen was by far more dangerous but she could anticipate and understand his thought more than she could Leven's.

Watharen was not an idiot though. Gazing into his fathomless eyes she knew that she had not fooled him. He knew that she did not want them to kill that Ranger and it was not for the good of the band. He had known from the beginning that she was someone to be reckoned with, someone to be watched closely.

Someone who he couldn't trust but that he could use.

"As you wish, my lord," she said softly, bowing.  
"And when you leave the camp, Leven or one of his men will watch him while your gone."

Christiana nodded though she swore violently in her mind. _This_ was why he was humoring her; this was why he was letting the Ranger live. Because he knew that she was aware that if she were to flee Leven would be free to do as he pleased with the Ranger. She wouldn't leave, she couldn't.

It had been a trap, and she had fallen right into it. Watharen might not be as sneaky as his son, but he was just as cunning.

"You may go. I believe you have business to take care of."

She bowed once more and exited.

As she stormed through the camp she fought the urge to scream in frustration. Watharen understood her far too well. He was taking her very nature and using it against her. He had used the same tactic when she had first learned what he was up to. He had agreed to order his men to not kill unnecessarily if she were to follow his orders. By staying she had been preventing more deaths.

Now he yet another chain to bind her here.

Cursing under her breath she hurried to the tent where the Ranger was being held.

_You had better watch your back, Watharen, _she snarled to herself. _Because I will not rest until you and all these blasted Raven's are stopped. I swear on the bones of Airic, I will not rest until you are punished for the crimes that you have committed and for the lives you have destroyed._

"How long are we going to put up with that little wretch?" Leven snarled a few minutes later. "He is more trouble then he is worth."

Watharen pulled off his cape, draping it over the back of his chair.

"On the contrary," Watharen said evenly. "Chris has been of great assistance. His intelligence and skill surpasses that of many of the men in camp combined."

"He is a _boy,_" Leven snarled.

Watharen turned to stare coolly at his son. "As are you."

Leven flushed.

"Yes Chris is young, though how young even I cannot guess. He is small but he acts with an aptitude beyond his years."

Leven snorted. "Indeed, but that does not answer my question. For how much longer are we going to keep him around? In fact why did you let him in the first place?"

Watharen shrugged. "I hoped I could convince him to see our side of things after a time. I have failed in that area but I can control him."

"He's dangerous. He could find out our secret. I think it is the exact thing he has been looking for. We can't keep him around for much longer. If he finds out who you are he will use it against us. It is what he has been waiting for," Leven argued.

"Your may be right, but we can tolerate him for a little while longer. This Ranger will make him reluctant to do anything to ambitious, and gives us another tool to use against him. Besides I believe we are not the only one's keeping secrets."

Leven remained silent for a moment. "Chris is full of secrets, which is why he is dangerous. We have no idea where he came from, how he got the skills he has and we know little of what he is planning."

Leven clamped his mouth shut as his father's eyes flashed with anger. "I have already agreed that the boy is dangerous, Leven! Stop parroting the fact," he snapped.

The young man nodded, for a moment, in his own anger, he had forgotten his father's notorious rage.

Watharen glared for a moment before waving his hand as if brushing away cobwebs.

"Besides what you have stated I feel there is something more. I want you to watch him and find out what it is. It is your area of expertise, after all."

Leven bowed. "Yes father."

"Now go. I have other matters to attend to."

Leven bowed once more and excited the tent.

Christiana clamped the last shackle on the Ranger's wrist. A heavy chain snakes to an identical one on his other wrist. Similar restraints chained his ankles together and a stronger one connected that chain to a post where it was locked in place.

He shook the chains, making them rattle.

"A little over done, don't you think?"

She shrugged. "You Ranger's have a high reputation. Some of the men speculate whether chains will hold you at all."

He raised an eyebrow. "But you do not?"

She smiled slightly. "I have not grown up with tales of your deeds, Ranger. Neither am I superstitious."

She picked up the pile of weapons and items that had been taken from him and brought them to her tent nearby. Taking a key from the chain around her neck she opened a chest at the foot of her cot and carefully placed his things inside. Her hand lingered on the strange multi-colored cloak. In the dim light it seemed to shimmer and blur before her eyes. Shaking her head she placed it with the rest, she would have time to examine it later. The bow was far too long to fit so she unstrung it and placed it under her cot.

As she walked out of the tent she saw several of the men crowding nearby, staring at the ranger. For a while the chained man did nothing then he suddenly lunged at them shouting: "Ahhhh."

The men jumped and scrambled away, hurrying back to their tasks.

She stifled a laugh.

"Bright men you have here," he said mockingly as she neared.

She grinned. "About as bright as a donkey and as sharp as the rear end of one, too."

He snorted. "All muscle except between the ears."

"Indeed, but then again those are the only kind of men who would get caught up in this," she murmured, more to herself then to the Ranger.

He looked over in surprise as he heard the bitterness in her voice. She did not meet his inquiring gaze and left.

Later that night she set up a simple shelter nearby with pine boughs, putting a few blankets and hides inside.

"It is not much but it will do for now."

He grimaced. "You will not need it up for long. I am likely to get my throat slit before long."

For a moment she was unable to stop the alarm from showing on her face, and then it faded.

"No. Watharen wants you alive for now. None of the men dare challenge his authority."

She brought supper for them both and ate nearby, ignoring it when she felt his calculating gaze.

For a long time after that she sat by one of the fires. Contemplating what had happened that day. Shame and self-loathing threatened to overwhelm her as she stared into the flames. She felt so powerless. There had to be something she could do but she was not clever enough to see it.

She might have released him and together they could have crept away but she had seen a few of Leven's men throughout the day and she had no doubt they were watching her now. They were specially handpicked men from the band, each having and individual skill. One man was an expert swords men, another an assassin, another was a pick pocket, various skills that Leven could use. They called the Renegades by the rest of the men because they were likely to turn on anyone to gain favor in Leven's or Watharen's eyes.

She sighed and looked up at the stars.

_What would you do, Airic? I have to put an end to this, but how?_

There was no answer. With a sigh she stood up, brushing off the back of her breeches and retreated into her tent.

Little did she know that fate was beginning to stretch forth its hand. It would not be long before she would have to make a choice, a choice that would affect the rest of her life.

**Sorry that this one took a little longer. I didn't have as much free time as I would like this week. ****Thanks, you readers who have read it from the beginning and putting my story on Story Alert. I makes me smile knowing someone is enjoying it as much as I am :). If you have your own stories please mention them in your review and where I can find them, I would love to read your work. **Once again please review so I know that someone read it and/or there is something I can improve on.  



	4. Secrets Revealed

**Hello readers. Thank you very much for reviewing. It has helped me improve my writing. I have noticed that some of you think that the Ranger she and Leven have captured is Will Treaty. Sorry if I didn't make that clear, but in chapter two the Ranger is introduced as Redmond. Will won't come into the story for a little while longer.**

Chapter 4

Secrets Revealed

Christiana glanced behind her. The man who was following her was too slow to duck out of sight. She saw the corner of his cloak before he disappeared.

She sighed in exasperation. Leven was not taking any chances. It had been nearly two weeks since they had captured the Ranger and Leven had his minions on her tail every second of the day. Luckily for her, only a handful of them where skilled at unseen movement and fewer than that were good trackers.

If he wanted to play this game she was more than happy to play along.

She continued, pretending to be oblivious of her pursuer. Patiently she wove through the undergrowth, her bow drawn and ready, keeping her eyes open for game. She took a moment to smile with satisfaction down at her bow. She had been carefully examining the Ranger's bow over the past few weeks and was able make a few improvements on her own because of it.

_Redmond, his name is Redmond, _she reminded herself.

For a moment she reflected back on the night that Redmond had asked her for her name.

She glanced at him with raised eyebrow. "You have heard it from the men, have you not?" she asked in confusion.

He had smiled wryly. "Yes. I am trying to do a proper introduction here."

She looked around. One of the Renegades were sitting by one of the campfires but wasn't close enough to be within hearing range.

"What brought all this on?" she inquired.

He shrugged. "You seem like a good lad."

She grimaced, looking down at the fire. "I'm Chris."

"Nice to meet you, Chris. I am Redmond," he said in a cheery voice as if they had just met in a village square.

Unable to help herself her mouth had twitched up in a reluctant smile.

She shook her head as she continued to stalk through the forest, ignoring her stalker. After that she had learned more about Redmond. He was named after the fief where he was born, Redmont. He had become a Ranger's apprenticed when he was twelve after his family had moved to another fief.

He had explained to her fiefs and how they worked. Other places he had been and adventures he had had. At first she had been a little uncomfortable. She was always careful to make sure that one of the Renegades were not close by and had pointed out to him more than once that he did not need to tell her this.

He wasn't worried though. Everything he told her was either unimportant or Watharen already knew.

She shook his head. She knew what he was doing, trying to get her to open up so he could learn more about Watharen and the Ravens, a name she now called the bandits to herself. But she was careful what she told Redmond. If she wasn't and the Renegades heard her it would be a swift death for both Redmond and her.

After a few more minutes she found what she was looking for. A cluster of old ruins lay before her. It was an old keep of some kind, inhabited with trees and small animals now. She stepped through one of the crumbling archways. As soon as she was out of sight from her follower she broke into a run, moving silently through the broken walls and heaps of rubble.

The old keep was a virtual maze of corridors and trees. She had explored them many times and knew from experience that it was easy to get lost in them. But she knew them well enough now that within a few minutes she slipped out a side entrance and ran back into the surrounding forest.

She strolled back into camp a couple hours later. Carrying a string of ducks she had shot close to the sea shore. No sooner had she dropped the meat off at the cook tent that Leven strode up to her.

"Congratulations on evading my men once again," he said coldly.

She fixed him with a level stare. "Honestly Leven, if you want me followed find a more capable person. They make enough noise to scare all the game from here to the sea."

He scowled. "It does not matter. The men were successful in the raid yesterday. Your hunting skills are not required."

Looking away she fought to control her anger, she knew better than to show it. She had not been told of the last raid. Watharen had said that minimal damage had been inflicted on the people in the caravan but she did felt that he was lying to her. She was losing what little control she had. Watharen was growing tired of placating her. Soon he would force her to choose. She would either have to swear loyalty to him or die and Redmond with her.

She nodded. "Anything else?"

There was a long pause. Unnerved by his uncharacteristic silence she looked up at him. He was studying her intently, looking her up and down as if she was a cow he wanted to buy.

"What?" she snapped.

He smiled. "Nothing. You can go."

She scowled and walked away, feeling his piercing gaze boring into her back all the way across the clearing. Unconsciously she gripped her dagger, her palms suddenly clammy. Something was wrong.

_Redmond. _She thought.

Fighting the urge to break into a run she hurried to her tent. As the wooden post came into sight her heart leaped into her throat. Redmond was nowhere in sight.

Her step faltered, her hand tightened on the pommel of her dagger with remorse and fear. Redmond was dead, they had killed him when she had so stupidly gone hunting. She had to leave, _now _before they killed her too.

She had not even taken a few steps toward her tent when a dark form rose from the other side of Redmond's shelter. In seconds her bow was in her hand, a arrow half pulled out of her quiver before she recognized the man.

"Redmond," she gasped.

He stared at her with surprise, eyes sweeping over her tense stance and ready weapon.

"Where you going to shoot me, Chris?"

For a long moment all she could do was stand and stare at him, desperately forcing her chaotic emotions to the back of her mind. She could not afford to lose her head, or both of them might literally lose theirs.

She slid the arrow back in place, though she kept her bow in her hand.

"No, you startled me," she said casually.

He raised an eyebrow.

"You are not easy to startle, lad. What happened?"

She shook her head. "Nothing, I jumped to hasty conclusions is all. I am fine."

He opened his mouth to say something but she swept past him to her tent. She had to take a moment and calm down.

She shoved aside the flap, dropping it behind her. For a moment she let her eyes adjust to the dim light. As she gazed around she paused, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling with unease. Again the feeling that something was wrong filled her.

_You have good instincts, little Princess. You can see things others cannot, notice things others would think unimportant. Listen to your instincts. _The echo of Airic's words to her echoed in her mind.

Slowly she stepped back and lifted the tent flap again, tucking it behind the pole so light filled the dark space.

Her heart pounded. There were tracks on the ground, to large, to deep to be her own. The blanket on her cot was slightly wrinkled and if it had been handled and then put back.

She turned to her chest, where there were two indents, as if someone had kneeled there. Taking the key off her neck she inserted it with fumbling fingers and opened her chest. As she lifted the lid her pounding heart skipped a couple beats. Someone had been inside it. Redmonds things, which had been on the very top were shoved to one side and her things were rearranged. Carefully she shifted through each item. There were only two things missing: her silver necklace, the one baring her family's royal crest, was gone. As was the peasants dress that she kept in case she ever had to use it.

With shaking hands she put everything back in place where it was meant to go before shutting the chest. Her stomach felt like someone had filled it with withering snakes; the sour taste of fear coated her tongue.

Someone had been in here, a man, judging by the tracks he had carelessly left behind. He had made no attempt to hide the intrusion, unafraid of her knowing he had been there. It had to be one of Leven's men, they were the only ones in the camp who were not afraid of her.

Leven's face from minutes before flashed through her mind, his intense, knowing stare.

She sat heavily on her cot.

Who ever it was, and it might have been Leven himself, had taken the two items that held her two, deepest secrets. With them he could easily expose her and destroy any hope she had of crushing the Raven's and saving Redmond.

Her head dropped forward into her hands as her body went cold with dread.

She was finished.

**Sorry about the long delay, but a mix of writers block and a busy schedule has made it hard for me to write as much as I would like to. But I should have lots of time this week to put up a couple stories. Please review.**


	5. The Jongleur

Chapter 5

The Jongleur Rides Again

Will gently pulled on the reins of his pony, looking over the castle that lay before him. Just beyond the hills the ocean gleamed crimson in the dying rays of the sun, signaling the end of yet another day.

The pony tossed his head.

_Come one, let's get on with it. _He seemed to say.

Will smiled and patted his neck.

"Alright Tug, let's go."

The pony snorted and hurried on. As the approached the village, Will glanced down at himself to make sure his weapons were hidden. He was dressed as a jongleur, a performer A disguise to hide the fact that he was a Ranger.

He smiled, remembering the siege of Mancidaw. On that mission he had also been sent in to a fief that was not his own, disguising himself as a jongleur to hopefully get the people to trust him. This time it was much the same. As a jongleur people were much more inclined to talk to him, at least much more than they did when he was a Ranger. And he did not want the Ravens to know he was here.

His gaze wondered to the forested hills beside the village. No doubt the Ravens were hidden somewhere within. The challenge was going to be to find them.

The smile slid off his face. It was no easy thing to best one of the King's Rangers, but these bandits had already done just that. They were not to be underestimated.

He knew it was too much to hope that Redmond was still alive. According to the reports Crowley had received from the baron of the fief it had been nearly two weeks since the Ranger had disappeared, with no sign or word of him since. Silently he swore under his breath to bring all the these blasted Ravens to justice.

Either way, Will was determined not to leave until the Ravens were finished.

He had to be ready for anything.

He didn't know, of course, that there was little to prepare him for the events ahead. Two completely different lives were about to collide and the fate of one of them rested in his hands.


	6. No Longer a Secret

Chapter 6

One Truth Revealed

Christiana let out startled gasp when a hand unexpectedly came down on her arm. She jerked away, her hand jumping to her dagger hilt, whirling to see who had touched her.

Redmond stared at her, eyebrows furrowed together in concern, an expression that had become all too familiar the past few days.

"Chris, what is wrong?" he said under his breath for the thousandth time. "You are tenser than a bow's string and far more likely to snap."

She shook her head, settling back down before the fire, refusing to answer.

Over the past few days she had been waiting for a summons to Watharen's tent, or Leven to approach her…or a knife in her back. But nothing happened. Rather than making her feel better her dread and fear increased.

_What is he waiting for? _She had thought over and over again.

There was no doubt in her mind that Leven knew _something_. He had not yet approached her but these days she would often feel a shiver down her spine and would turn to see him staring at her with cold, calculating eyes. She had been waiting for him to do something, tell his father, reveal her secrets to the camp, arrange to have her assassinated, _anything_. So far the only thing he had done was increase that number of Renegades watching her.

Everyday her anxiety grew until she felt, as Redmond had said, tighter than a bow string.

Worse, she knew the stress was beginning to show. She slept fitfully, every single noise sounding like an assassin or Leven approaching her tent. When she was up and about she was always looking over her shoulder, her hands always jumping to her dagger. The Raven's were avoiding her more than usual because she was irritated and often snapped.

But the worse of it was there was nothing she could do about it. She could no longer leave camp because she was afraid of what Leven might do in her absence. She couldn't escape, not without leaving Redmond behind. She couldn't go find help. She couldn't kill Leven. She couldn't tear the secret from his mind. She had no way to threaten of bribe him into silence. She had nothing.

She jumped when she realized Redmond was saying her name again.

"What did you say?"

He leaned slightly closer, glancing at the Renegades nearby.

"Chris, if we are in danger, please, you must tell me. I have a right to know," he said under his breath.

She snorted. "Considering the fact that you are a _prisoner_, Redmond, you have no rights."

He considered her for a moment. "True, I suppose, but you are not exactly my captor, Chris. You are just as much a prisoner here as I am."

She scowled and looked away. There was no denying the truth of his words. She was as trapped as he was.

He lowered his voice further.

"Have you considered escape?"

"Of course," she snapped under her breath. "But I don't see how I could."

He frowned. "I do not think it would too hard for you to sneak past the sentries."

She sighed. "I could, but then what? Where would I go? Besides, if I left, you would be dead as soon as they find out."

There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes but he continued. "Then we need to both escape."

She snorted. "How?"

"We can figure out a way."

She glanced around.

"Maybe," she could hear the doubt in her own voice as she said it.

He studied her for a moment then leaned back against the pole he was chained to.

"Or we could get lucky and be rescued."

For a long moment she was silent.

"For your sake, I hope so," she said softly before standing and walking away.

She dearly hoped that the Ravens would be caught and finished, Redmond would be rescued, and Leven and Watharen would pay for the lives they had destroyed. But whatever happened, she was doomed. Her father was the king of Elendor, she knew what happened to criminals and those associated with them. She would be killed, just like the rest of the Ravens.

With a shaky sigh she entered her tent.

The next morning Christiana woke early, shouldered her bow and quiver and slipped past the sleepy sentries. She did not go far. She found a stream and knelt down on a bed of moss, bathing her face in the icy water.

Pulling the leather band from her hair she ran her fingers through the dark strands. Her hair was dull and uneven, the results of her outdoor life. It had once been long, falling past her waist in gleaming, rippling, silky waves of dark brown, smooth and shining from many oils and ointments.

She sighed and closed her eyes. Bit by bit she let the aura of the forest sweep over her, for a moment letting it wash her fears and worries away. The creek leaped and bubbled, soft and light like children's laughter. Birds sang in the trees, filling the air with their soft clear notes. The smell of damp earth filled her nose, the sweet smell of grass, the faint, pleasant aroma of the wild flowers on the breeze. Her hands brushed the moss under her, cool and spongy.

Briefly she remembered her time at sea, the smell of salt, the spray of water, the deep vivid colors and the exotic reefs and fish.

Taking a deep breath she opened her eyes.

True her life had been and could have been one of ease and comfort, servants at her beck and call, sleeping among silk sheets and pillows, wearing dresses that could have fed common people for weeks, anything she wanted at her fingertips. Except true happiness.

Despite her past luxuries, she did not miss them. She had loved her time at sea and she loved the forest even more. Nor could she forget the feelings of fierce satisfaction that came from knowing that she could survive on her wits.

Out of all of it though she loved the freedom it gave her. Now it had been taken away and if she wanted to get it back she would have to come up with an idea and come up with it fast.

She had to find away.

She should have been more careful.

A cold dagger pressed against her back.

"Get up," a sharp voice growled.

Adrenaline shot through her but before she could react a large hand grabbed the collar of her shirt and yanked her to her feet, choking her in the process. Instinctively she crouched, hands balling into fists, ready to fight. Her muscles tightened when her attacker increased the pressure of the dagger against her. It easily sliced a small gap in her tunic and she felt the cold steel against her back.

"Do not even think about it."

She gritted her teeth in rage as he pulled her dagger from her waist and cut the string of her bow, tossing the now useless piece of wood into the bushes. She felt the strap on her quiver give and heard the clatter as her arrows hit the ground.

"There," he said voice now at normal volume. She felt like she had been hit in the face with a mace when the familiar, drawling tone hit her ears.

"Leven," she whispered hoarsely.

He chuckled. "I knew I would catch you in the woods. It is where you are most likely to let your guard down."

She said nothing though she cursed silently to herself.

His dagger retreated but she had no doubt that he could have it back on her ribs in seconds should she give him a reason to.

"What do you want?"

"I have some things of yours. I was wondering if you wanted them back."

Her heart sank. One of his arms swung into her line of sight, stopping inches from her face. Dangling in his fist was her necklace.

For a moment she did not trust herself to speak. Her insides were trembling under the weight of her anxiety and her heart felt as if it were trying to beat its way out of her chest.

"So it was you," she said, trying to make her voice cold as ice, brittle with anger. hoping to hide how frightened she really was. "You had no right to go through my possessions."

"The only rights you have are the ones my father thinks you worthy of and I can easily influence that by what I report to him."

She forced a scornful laugh. "You have nothing to report. You found my sisters necklace in my chest. What good will that do you?"

"How touching, that you still carry it around," he said, voice slick as oil. He pulled the necklace back out of her sight. "Tell me, is it because you loved your dear sister so much that you kept her _clothing_ as well?"

His arms appeared on either side of her, feeling like a cage closing in around her. In his hands he held her dress.

She stared at it for a while, far too slow in thinking of a response. She could think of no excuse for why the dress would be in her chest. It was simple, not worth any money and too plain to be a keepsake.

Before she could up with any answer he tossed the dress to the side. His hard hands closed around her arm and he swung her around, thrusting her into the thick trunk of a tree. She bit back a cry of pain as she slammed against the rough bark.

She kicked at him but he dodged it easily. Grabbing her throat in his huge fist he lifted her into the air so she dangled almost a foot off the ground. He was choking her.

She gasped desperately for air, twisting and clawing at his hands as spots began to appear in her vision.

He grinned cruelly, easily suppressing her attempts to hit him. His dagger appeared once more in his hand. He brought it up and slid it tauntingly across her collar bone then in one swift movement brought it down, tearing the top of her tunic a few inches down.

He laughed in gleeful satisfaction. "Well, well. What do we have here?"

The bandages that bound her chest flat could clearly be seen under her garb.

Horror filled her, quickly becoming fuzzy as her mind began to shut down. Her arms went limp as her face turned steadily more purple.

Just before she lost conscience he released her. She fell like a sack of flour at his feet, choking and coughing as she sucked in lungful after lungful of life giving air. Clutching at her throat to try and ease the bruising pain that his fingers had left on her skin.

He only allowed her to recover for a few seconds before he yanked her to her feet, pinning her against the tree once more. His iron grip was the only thing that kept her from collapsing to the ground again.

"Your name is not Chris, is it?" he said softly.

She did not answer.

"Clever really," he said. "A well thought out masquerade. You are probably older than you let us think you were, it gave you the excuse you needed for being a skinny runt. Your pretty little voice is covered by you peculiar accent. And with your hair so short, keeping your face dirty and your chest bound flat the physical characteristics are hidden. Yes, a very well put together disguise."

She glared up at him.

He looked her up and down slowly, studying her face.

"Let me see if I can take the mask off a little more."

He reached forward grabbing a fistful of her tunic and with a swift yank ripped the sleeve off. Pinning her to the tree with his forearm he took a canteen from his belt, soaked the cloth with water and pressed the rag to her face. Roughly he cleaned away the layer of dirt that she rarely washed. It had helped her hide her features.

After he was done he leaned back, smiling in satisfaction.

"It really is not that hard to see that you're a girl when you know what to look for. If you had longer hair you might even pass as pretty."

Absently he caught a strand of her short hair and toyed with it between his fingers. Working his way up the dull, uneven strand he tapped her temple with the tips of his fingers before trailing them down the side of her cheek.

Revulsion filled her and she slapped her hand away from her face.

He grinned. Grabbing her arms tightly he pinned her harder to the tree, leaning forward so he pinned her against the trunk with his body.

"Now, now, none of that. Surely you're aware that your fate is in my hands. I can go to my father right now and tell him what you are."

"I am surprised you haven't already," she snarled. Her voice was strained and her throat throbbed with pain as she spoke. She could still feel his fingers on her neck as if he had branded her.

"I wanted to keep it to myself for now," he said softly.

She paled as she understood his true motive behind the words. He wanted to keep _her _to himself.

"If you behave," he continued softly, leaning even closer. "I might be compelled to keep your little secret a while longer."

As he came closer she realized what he was going to do. He was going to kiss her. There was nothing she could do. She couldn't scream for help, there was no one that would come to her aid. She shrank against the bark of the tree…then they both heard someone crashing through the trees.

He dropped her so suddenly she crumpled on the ground again. Stepping away he turned as one of the men from the camp stumbled out of the undergrowth.

"What?" he snapped.

"Your father wants to see you, Sir Leven," the man blustered. He glanced at Christiana as she got to her feet, arms tightly crossed across her chest to keep the slash down her collar hidden. "You as well."

She had never thought she would be so happy to see one of the thugs from camp. She could have hugged him.

Leven nodded. "Very well, go."

The man hurried off.

Leven grabbed her arm as she moved past him, pulling her close and bringing his mouth to her ear.

"At a later time, my lady."

He reached into his pocket and pulled her necklace out of it. Encircling her once again with his arms he pushed aside her hair and clasped the necklace in place, his rough fingers lingering on her neck. She shuddered. Finally, unable to stand his touch any longer, she shoved away, hurrying to retrieve her bow and quiver, gathering her things. He tossed her dagger and the dress at her feet.

"Drop that load off at your tent and change your shirt before you come to my father's tent."

He walked away and within moments was out of sight. As she grasped her dagger she had the fierce urge to rush up behind him and stab him in the back. But the man who had summoned them had seen them together, Watharen would know who had killed his son. She could run but Redmond would be punished in her stead.

Shakily she wrapped her things in the dress. Slowly the adrenaline faded from her body and a terrible doom filled her mind. A couple tears of frustration and fear leaked from her eyes but she dashed them away impatiently. Allowing herself to cry was a past luxury.

She hurried to her tent, not even looking at Redmond as she scurried past him. In the darkness of her tent she changed quickly.

As she pulled on a loose shirt over her head she felt as if Leven was still choking her. Her breathing was ragged and she couldn't seem to get enough air. Leven had gained another chain to bind her. With every passing day she was becoming more and more a prisoner.

Shoving away her rising panic she pulled herself together and hurried to Watharen's tent. A desperate plan was rapidly forming in her mind, it was very likely to get her killed but at least it might allow her to accomplish what she wanted. The Raven's would fall. Watharen would be brought to justice. Redmond would walk away unharmed.

She just would not be around to see it.


	7. Not Really in Charge

Chapter 7

Not Really in Charge

Christiana walked into the tent. Watharen was seated in his throne like chair. Leven stood on his right side.

Standing before the two she bowed, taking in the different moods of the men before her. Watharen was as cool as always but Leven looked angry. His eyes were blazing with rage. Something was clearly going one that he did not like. She wasn't sure if that boded ill or well.

"You wanted to see me, my Lord," she said to Watharen. Her voice still sounded slightly horse and strained from Leven's strangling, but not as bad as it was before.

He turned his dark blue eyes on her.

"Your late Chris," he said evenly.

She bowed.

"Forgive me. I had to briefly stop by my tent."

He waved his hand impatiently.

"We have more important business to attend to. Leven and I are leaving, temporarily."

She slowly looked up at him, fighting to keep the hope that had suddenly sprung in her chest under control.

"Leaving, my Lord? Where?"

"It is none of your affair, but we we'll be gone for a few days. During that time you are in charge."

She could help the startled expression that flashed over her face. He wasn't an idiot. He knew she hated him, hated Leven, hated the Raven's and hated the entire affair. Why was he leaving her in charge?

"I do not want any raids while I am gone. The kingdom has already sent one Ranger, they may send another and I do not want any of the men exposing us because an ill-conceived plan."

She bowed her head in recognition of the wisdom in the plan.

He smiled thinly. "Since you hate raids so intensely, surely you can keep the men in line for a week or two."

"I shall do my best," she lied. If there was the slightest hint of anther Ranger around she would shove the Raven's under his nose.

Watharen could not have better timing. By the way Leven was glaring at the canvas wall, she was sure he was of the opposite opinion.

The man studied her for a long moment then stood and approached her. Automatically she tensed, forcing herself not to take a step back as he towered over her.

"Do not take me for a fool, Chris. I know that you are not pleased with me or the rest of the band. Nor are you at loyal to me in any sense of the word."

She made no reply. How could she? If she denied it he would call her out for lying to him and more than likely get angry. If she agreed it would just be confirming her untrustworthiness.

He leaned closer and this time she couldn't help shrinking back as his dark eyes surveyed her. She felt almost as if she were drowning in the deep blue of his pitiless gaze, making her heart pound and her hands tremble with fear.

"Do not even think of trying anything," he said, voice dangerously low. "I may be leaving you with the responsibility of keeping the other men in line but do not labor under the delusion that you have any power here."

Clenching her fists to steady herself she forced herself to look calmly back at him.

"How could I forget?" she said dryly.

That forced a wry smile from him and she felt a little satisfaction. He was not afraid of her but he acknowledged that she was a threat. That in itself was complementary though she would much rather be thought less of. It would make it much easier to cause some damage if he wasn't watching her like a hawk.

"There is enough supplies for a few weeks, and I daresay the men can get enough food by hunting. We should be back before a fortnight."

She bowed. "Yes my lord."

He straitened. "Very good, you may go."

She bowed once more before turning and striding out of the tent. She could feel Leven's cold glare boring into her back and she suppressed a shudder thought at the same time suppressed a grin. It no longer mattered that Leven had found out she was a girl. He would be gone by tomorrow. Even if he told his father her secret she doubted Watharen would think much of it except he would gain something to use against her. She was determined he would not get the chance to use it against her. She would find a way to bring down the Raven's before the fortnight.

She jumped when a hand descended on her shoulder, yanking her backwards behind Watharen's tent and against someone's chest.

Leven, again.

Before she could say anything he leaned forward till his mouth rested against her ear.

"Seems you have luck on your side, my lady. But don't get to cocky. My Renegades are under strict orders to watch you."

"Is that supposed to surprise me?" she hissed.

"No. But this might. If you go anywhere without one of my men, if they get the slightest hint that you are up to any mischief, if you cause any trouble, they will cut that Rangers throat."

Her blood went cold. Of course she had suspected as much for weeks but having him say it out loud made it seem far more terrifying.

"And if that doesn't stop you, you will follow him, understood?"

She swallowed dryly. "Perfectly."

"Good. I would hate for you to get yourself killed before we get to know each other better."

This time she could not stop the shudder that raced up her spin as his hands grasped her waist, pulling her tighter against his body. Yanking herself free she turned and glared at him furiously which he only returned with a malicious grin.

"Behave yourself, my little sparrow."

Turning on her heals she stormed away.

"Oh, and just in case you have any ideas about letting him go," he called out, making her hesitate and look over her shoulder. He was still standing where she had left him but he was holding a iron key in his hand. "I am taking the key with me."

Again she had to clench her fists tight to stop them from shaking. The urge to rush up to him, yank his dagger from his belt and plunge it into his chest was overwhelming. She had never wanted to kill someone so much in her entire life.

Whirling back around she escaped to the pathetic refuge of her tent. But the cloth walls would do little to protect her. There was nothing and no one that could. She had only herself and she was failing miserably.

**Sorry that this one was a little short and that it took so long. Things are going to start taking a different turn in the next couple chapters. Enjoy.**


	8. Decoy

Chapter 8

Decoy

Will perched in the tree, his bow loosely held in his grasp, the folds of his Ranger's cloaked wrapped around him. Even if you knew he was there, chances were you would not be able to see him. His cloak blended with the forest, making him almost invisible. His utter stillness did the rest. He kept his body loose, ready for action, but without moving a muscle. Only his brown eyes moved, darting every which direction, taking in everything. His ears picked up every little sound. His hands were light and ready on his long bow, an arrow already notched to the string.

It had not been hard for him to see the men that were hiding themselves on the other side of the road. There were at least twenty of them, all wearing black, crouching in the underbrush, shifting impatiently in their hiding places.

They were the Ravens, the mob of bandits that had been terrorizing the roads to the sea side fief for several months now. He had found them. They had not showed themselves for weeks, despite his best efforts. Now, finally, they had risen to the bait. The trap was about to be sprung.

The movement in the cover of the trees across the road suddenly stilled when the sound of wagon wheels and the clomping of hooves was heard around the bend. A caravan was approaching from somewhere around the bend.

The creak of wagon wheels almost covered the frantic whispering he could hear across the road.

"Shut up, everyone, shut up," a deep voice snapped. Silence fell.

The caravan came around the corner. Surrounding the parade of wagons, ox and horses where ten knights, dressed in simple armor. Three of them in the back and front and two on either side. There armor clanked as their horses pranced down the road and the knights looked warily to either side. Seeing no danger they continued.

For a time they continued forward uninterrupted. Then, acting on an unseen signal, the Raven's leaped out of the cover of the trees, shouting at the top of their lungs and throwing themselves at the nearest knights.

The skirmish was over quickly. The captain quickly surrendered when he saw that his men were outnumbered and outmatched. He ordered his men to stand down and the knights reluctantly dropped their weapons. The wagon drivers looked around in alarm.

Out of the cover of the trees, the largest of the bandits came out from where he had been hiding. He too was dressed in black, but unlike the other Ravens he had a black cloak around his wide shoulders.

Will watched with disbelieve as the man sauntered up to the captain. _This_ was the man that had been causing all the trouble? He didn't look smart enough to put two and two together much less organize a successful criminal operation. His head and hands looked too big for the rest of his body. His eyes were close together and surprisingly small. Made all the smaller as he squinted around in smug satisfaction as if he had just, single handedly disarmed the caravan. His cloak was nothing more than a black piece of cloth with a rope woven through one end and tied around his neck. He had a face that looked like he spent most of his time running head long into stone walls.

Of course looks could be deceiving, Will knew. The hulking, lumbering body could very easily contain a mad genius but Will doubted it. The man was a coward. That much was clear. He had waited until all the knights were disarmed before coming out. He was arrogant, either very confident or very foolish as he sauntered up to the captain without any sign of hesitation.

Clearly the Captain was thinking along the same lines as Will.

"Do not tell me that _you _are the criminal behind these bandit raids.

The man grinned, revealing blackened, rotting teeth. "Indeed I am. I am the Talon, the most feared of all the Ravens and their lord and master." He had a voice like rocks crashing together, jarring and granting against the nerves. "Wise of you to surrender. It makes things so much easier, doesn't it?"

The captain didn't answer.

"It also makes it so much easier to kill you," the man continued thoughtfully.

He drew a sword from the folds of his cloak, handling it clumsily and almost dropping it when the rusted, leather wrapped hilt caught on the black cloth. But eventually he managed to raise it about his head to cut the captains head of his shoulders.

The Captain tensed, Will brought up his bow.

Before the man could bring the sword forward even an inch there was the low twang of a bowstring followed by the hum of the arrow as it shot from the cover of the trees and slammed home into the Talon's meaty forearm.

The man howled with rage and pain, dropping his sword and clutching at his wounded limb. Will stared in shock at the arrow sticking out of the man's arm. It was not his. His arrow was still notched on the string of his bow.

Slowly he lowered his bow and looked toward the trees on the other side of the road where the arrow had come from, scanning the shadows carefully. At first he saw nothing then a figure leaped down from the thick foliage of one of a large oak, landing lightly on its feet, holding a bow, and clad in a forest green cloak.

For one wild, joyful moment Will thought it was Redmond. The Ranger who had been originally sent to take care of the Ravens, but he quickly dispelled the thought. The cloak was not the molten, gray-green of the rangers, the bow was neither the standard long bow nor the recurve bow, and the figure did not wear the double knife scabbard typical of the Rangers.

"_Talon_?" the figure said in a husky voice with a curious accent that Will could not place. The voice was mocking. "Really, if you can't think of a better name than _that_ why even bother."

A slim hand reached up and pulled the hood back out of the way to reveal to face underneath.

Will looked at the newcomer with surprise. It was a boy, a slight built youth of fourteen or fifteen years of age. Under the cloak he wore simple brown breeches and a loose green shirt. Around his neck a scarf was tied. He had a wiry form, his arms lined with corded muscles. Should length, dark brown hair was pulled back away from the angular face into a ponytail tied with a leather strap.

Though the boy had spoken lightly, the amusement did not reach his eyes, so green the Will could see them clearly from here.

"Talon" shifted uncomfortably, still clutching his bleeding arm.

"Chris, what are you doing here?"

The green eyes blazed with barely suppressed rage as the boy marched up to the much larger man. Though Talon's head and shoulders were above his head, he looked completely cowed.

"Trying to clean up your mess, what else? He gave you direct orders not to do anything until his returned," the youth snapped, voice as cold as ice.

Will's interest instantly peaked. So he had been right, Talon was not the true leader. Neither was this boy called Chris. Whoever the leader was, he was away, and he had ordered the Raven's not to raid, which would explain why Will had not been able to coax them out of hiding these past weeks.

"Oh, come on Chris," the man grumbled. "Food is running low, we need more supplies. And you didn't have to shoot me."

Chris's free hand clenched into a fist. He let out a curse that Will had never heard before in his life. It was defiantly in another language but from what country, or the languages name, he had not the slightest idea. "We are not in such desperate need of supplies that you have to disobey orders. Do not try and hide your foolish wants behind pathetic excuses. As for shooting you, be lucky it wasn't you head. It _would _take an arrow to penetrate you thick skull."

The man flinched, he grumbled something that Will couldn't hear though it only mad Chris more enraged. In an instant the youth had pulled a dagger from his belt and placed it against Talon's neck.

"Have you forgotten _all _of his orders, you dolt?"

The man gulped hard, sweating. "Which ones?"

The lad closed his eyes as if praying for patience then opened them, glancing at the watching knights and caravan.

"We will talk about this later," he snapped. He thrust the dagger into his belt and shoved past the man. "Tie them up and get the wagons. Leave what we can't bring back on your own. Might as well finish what you started."

Talon nodded, clearly relieved that Chris's attention had been diverted. Scrambling back he rushed to bellow at the rest of the Raven's to get the job done. He did not join in the work himself. Instead he took the arrow out of his arm and tied it tight. If he hadn't had so much muscel and meat on his bones the damage would have been far more severe. As it was, really it was only a minor wound for the enormous man.

Will turned his attention back to Chris and saw the boys shoulders lift as he took a deep breath to calm himself. As he did his green eyes scanned the caravan, the surrounding trees and up and down the road, clearly looking for any sign that more people were nearby. Despite himself, Will was impressed, the boy was alert and attentive, not once letting his guard down.

The rest of the men tied up the knights and wagon drivers, taking the oxen's leads while other mounted the extra horses.

"Take the secret road and for your sake I would make sure to cover your tracks well or you'll pay for it," Chris hissed. The men nodded and hurried off, disappearing around the bend.

Soon only the boy, the bound caravan members and the left over wagons and animals were left. The boy sighed and approached the captain, crouching down so he could talk face to face with him.

"It should not be long before travelers come by," he said, voice no longer as harsh or as cold as it had been. "But I will be back at night fall to make sure you are no longer here."

"And if we are?" the Captain snapped. "Do you plan to kill us?"

"No," the boy said calmly. "I plan to release you."

In the shocked silence Chris turned and walked into the trees. There was a pause when another man joined him from behind one of the oaks and together they disappeared into the trees.

In a few moments they were gone.

Will waited another good ten minutes, carefully examining the shadows to make sure they were gone before easily slipping down from his tree.

"Good job Thomas," he called to the Captain.

The captain glared at him. "I hope you had the bloody bow ready."

"Of course," Will said, indignantly. He felt a little angry about being doubted but then again, Captain Thomas was not one of his friends from Redmont, it was only natural that he would be suspicious of Ranger's. It had taken Will quiet some time to convince him to carry out this masquerade in order to draw the Raven's out of hiding.

"Took you long enough to shoot," Thomas crumbled as Will came over and cut through his bindings

"It is lucky that I did not. We would have lost the chance of learning valuable information. The ruse would have been revealed too soon, We would have caught the wrong people."

He freed the another man who instantly when about freeing his companions. Will grabbed the Captains arm and pulled him to the side, away from the other men.

"From what that boy said, it is clear that the real criminal behind this is not here at the momen. Clearly he had ordered his men to lay low for a while.

Thomas scowled. "I figured that out on my own, thank you very much. If that big bear was the leader your first Ranger would not have had a problem."

"My thoughts exactly, Chris is In charge, or rather the second in command." Will said.

The captain scoffed. "That boy? He's so skinny you could feed him through the eye of a needle."

"He's intelligent," Will interjected, "and rather skilled. I don't think the true leader of the Ravens would have left him in charge otherwise."

Thomas still looked doubtful. "Did you see him clearly, Ranger? He couldn't have been more than fifteen years old."

"He talks like he is twenty, acts like it ,too."

Will watched as the Captain finally stopped to ponder what he was saying, the tactician and the instinct to look at all sides of a situation taking over.

"Still, even if the boy is considerably skilled, he is young and inexperienced. I bet he lost control of the men or we would not have seen them at all."

"Exactly," Will said in satisfaction. Glad that the captain was thinking along the same lines as he was. "It might be something we could use."

"Maybe, but we have to be careful. We don't know what secrets this Chris might have up his sleeve."

Will nodded.

For a moment they stopped to ponder their situation. Both of them curious about the young boy.

Finally Will shook his head to clear it.

"We need more information. I need to follow them before they get too far ahead."

Thomas raised an eyebrow. "Wasn't the plan to go together and sneak up from behind?"

"We can't afford to now. We do not know how many bandits are back at their base, and we know for a fact that two key people are not with the group we would be attacking. Chris is in there somewhere," he waved his hand toward the forest, "and their leader could be anywhere. "

Thomas frowned. He didn't like the idea of splinting up but he could see the sense it what the Ranger was saying.

"Just do not move in on your own. Leave some fun for us."

Will grinned. Pulling his cowl over his head he disappeared into the trees, hurrying back to the clearing farther back where he had left Tug before following the stolen wagons and the group of bandits. For a moment he was tempted to swerve from the trail and track Chris but resisted the urge. It would be much easier following a large group of men than a a single boy and the man he was with. He did not want to risk loosing his trail in the wood and have to wast valuable time backtracking to a find the original trail.

Still, though he kept alert and attentive to everything around him part of his mind remained on the boy that he had seen. There was something about Chris. Something that placed him apart from the other Ravens. However hard Will thought about it he could not put his finger on what it was.

Still, he was sure about one thing.

He was going to do whatever he could to learn more about him.

**Yes, things are finally beginning to get going. Hope you enjoyed the past couple chapters, please comment so I know if there is anything I need to change. **


	9. Watched

Chapter 9

Watched

Will carefully peered through the underbrush into the camp. It had not been all that hard for him to follow the tracks of the wagons. The men had made an impressive effort to cover their tracks, clearly well rehearsed in the practice. They had put padding around the wagon wheels and the hooves of the animals to keep them from making deep, recognizable tracks on the path. Not only that, they had also laid a false trail, leading two of the wagons farther down the road before retracing their tracks back to where the entire group diverted off the road.

The trail which they had turned on to had been well hidden. A couple miles off a side road was a mound of large boulders. Between two of them the bandits had set up a mass of live shrubs and bushes between them, hiding the trail that diverged of the road. The bandits easily moved them aside, brought the wagon's through and put the screen back into place. The trail wound behind the boulders, hiding them from further view before disappearing into the thick trees.

It was very clever, but Will was a Ranger. It had not been hard for him to see the false trail for what it was, nor notice the half dead shrubbery. He had led Tug around the boulders and was soon traveling parallel to the path. He had had to sneak past three sentry posts but now he was here. Tug was once more farther back in the woods as he surveyed the bandit camp.

Or rather, at the moment he was observing and argument between two of the people in it,

He had no problem discerning the words that Chris and Talon were saying. They were both shouting so loud it would have been a wonder if they couldn't be heard by the closest village.

"I can't believed you disobeyed his direct orders," Chris yelled. Once more Will was struck how utterly tiny he looked next to the enormous man that called himself Talon

"I didn't," the large man, protested, face turning red with rage.

"He told us specifically not to do any more raids until he returned, you went on a raid, what part of that is not disobeying to you?" Chris said coldly.

"It was just a little one."

"With seventeen wagons and ten knights on guard? That is no small raid. Den sanok."

Will raised his eyebrows as another, foreign curse word flew from the boys mouth. Once again he had not idea what he had just said but it was clear by his tone that it was no compliment

"I don't see why we shouldn't do raids anyway," said Talon dully, trying to defend himself.

Chris rolled his eyes. "How about thy kingdom has gotten wind of us?" he said coolly. "Are you questioning Watharen's orders? He is no fool, he knows what he is doing. He does not want the crown sending more Rangers after us."

He pointed to a pole stuck deep in the ground and chained to it was a man. Will stiffened with shock. At the same time he let out the smallest, yet the most heartfelt, sigh of relief. It was Redmond. He was bound in heavy iron manacles and chains. He was watching the argument with interest, though Will could see the anxious looks in his eyes. As Will watched Redmond met Chris's eye, raising his eyebrows in an unspoken question. In response Chris shook his head the in the smallest motion possible. Redmond slumped against the wooden pole in relief. Will frowned in confusion. What was going on?

Talon grumbled, glaring down at his boots.

Chris turned away in disgust.

"This is on _your_ head, so you can do the honors of telling Watharen what happened when he gets back."

"And when is that?" Talon snapped. "He's been gone for nearly two weeks now. How much longer is he going to take?"

"I am not Watharen's keeper. I do not know where he is," Chris snapped without looking at him. But he did glance at the crowd of men who had stopped to observe the fight.

"You all have tasks to do," his voice snapped out like a whip before he stormed over to the post and the Ranger held prisoner there. Will tensed for a moment but Chris did not make any aggressive moves toward Redmond. He simply crouched near the campfire ring near by and glared into the dead coals.

He sighed and sat back a little. At the moment, all he could do was watch and observe. Until the this Watharen showed up there was nothing else he could do. He would learn as much as he could until that time came. Every piece of information might mean the difference between victory and defeat.

However there wasn't too much activity going on. Many of the men lazed about the camp, looking agitated and bored. Only a handful of them were unloading the contents of the carts and putting them into large tents, passing a man with a role of parchment who carefully marked everything as it went by him.

He lifted his head when Chris rose and walked into the mass of tents. He was back only a few minutes later with two tin plates in his hands. He strode over to Redmond and handed it to him, sitting down near by as they both ate. Chris's back was to Will so he couldn't see his face but he did see Redmond lean forward slightly, his mouth barely moving as he spoke to the boy.

Again he frowned slightly. Redmond did not seem to appear as if he was conversing with an enemy. In fact, Will could almost swear that Redmond was looking at Chris with concern.

Again he sighed. He would like to have sent a message to Redmond, somehow let him know that a plan was underway to help him and finish theses bandits. But he didn't dare risk it.

It was amazing that he was even alive. It had been nearly a month since his capture Why would the bandits let him live for so long? He was an obvious threat, should he somehow manage to escape he could easily wipe out the Raven's, he probably had learned plenty of information simply by observing the camp, and Will couldn't think of any advantages they would gain by keeping him alive.

He looked over at his comrade again then at the boy. It had something to do with Chris. He was pretty sure of that. But what had the boy done?

More and more questions crowded into his mind as he continued to watch the camp. With no answers in sight.

"You alright?" Redmond whispered.

Christiana sighed. "I'm fine."

Redmond leaned back again. "You got there in time?"

"Yes, no one was killed," she murmured. _But we might still be. _She thought to herself.

She had no doubt that Watharen would blame the raid on her. Unless by some miracle she was able to talk herself out of it, she and Redmond before long.

Strangely though, the thought of dieing did not frighten her. She was tired, worn out and tired of constantly being afraid not only for her life, but for Redmond's, for the victims of the raids and for any Rangers that might come. For it all to end, for all of it to just stop, would almost be a relief.

She shook the thought away. She would die, or she wouldn't. Until then she would do all she could to fix things, even if it did seem like a impossibility at the moment.

"What happens now?" he asked.

"Nothing until Watharen gets back," she said. She hardly noticed how lifeless her voice sounded. "Unless Leven has already given the Renagades orders to do in a situation like this, then we should be safe for a little while longer."

She ignored him when he stared at her for a while.

"Chris, your not giving up, are you?"

She stood up with another sigh. "I'm trying not to Redmond. But I'm running out of options."

"Don't loose hope."

She shut here eyes. "What should I hope for, Redmond. Whatever side is the victor in this little battle I'm dead either way."

She turned away and walked to her tent.

Only half an hour later she was back, trying hard to keep the excited expression off her face. She had been going through the contents of her chest and had spotted an item. As she had stared at it a flash of inspiration hit her. She had sat quietly, developing her idea until she had a full scale plan. It would require some time and it would be risky but she was pretty sure if luck was on her side she would be able to pull it off.

Fighting to remain casual she went over and stocked the fire, as she gazed into the flickering flames, her hood pulled up to cover her face, she talked quickly to Redmond, her mouth a blur as she spoke. His own eyes brightened and he quietly put in suggestions and comments.

That night she went to sleep with her spirits considerably higher than they had been in weeks. Of course there had been a part of the plan that she hadn't told Redmond, or rather it was a second plan to ensure her own safety once they were both away from the bandits. But he didn't need to know about it. She didn't need him to give the chance to stop her.


	10. Two Devils too Soon

Chapter 10

Two Devils too Soon

Four Days Latter

Christana looked up to the sound of a horn and her heart skipped a beat. That could only mean one thing. Watharen and Leven had returned.

She exchanged anxious glances with Redmond before she set aside the quarter staff she had been shaving and hurrying to where the men were gathering at the trail. She wove her way to the front, fighting to at least keep the dread off her face.

As she watched for the first sign of the two riders she cursed to herself. She wasn't ready. There hadn't been time to make the necessary preparations.

She tried to calm her racing nerves by rationalizing what parts of the plan were already set. Most of her possessions were safety stowed in a canvas sack at the bottom of her chest, covered by a extra blanket. Redmond's weapons were all hidden in her tent, close to the entrance. The path they would take was mapped out, her alternate path included.

It was _mostly _ready, she assured herself. But the main part, the piece that would determine the failure or the success of it was not.

_Ready or not, _she thought to herself. _It's time._

The thought sent her heart racing and she once again had to calm herself. Only have it skip a beat and lurch into a sprint when two figure rode around the bend. In front was the familiar, broad shouldered figure of Watharen, riding his storm gray battle-horse. Behind him rode Leven on his chalk white mare.

She had to admit they both cut impressive figures. Watharen's white shirt was stark against the dark green and brown hues of the forest around him. His cloak billowed behind him, and his huge sword gleamed in it's sheath on the horses side. His son looked regal in armor fit for a knight. She had the uncomfortable feeling that it was from a knight. A knight that had the misfortune of meeting them on their journey.

As the men parted to let them through, she bowed with everyone else, but not before she saw Leven's piercing gaze sweep over the Raven's and land on her, a wicked gleam in his eyes. Suppressing a shoulder she didn't look up until four gray legs stopped in front of her.

Slowly she looked up. "Welcome back my lord. I hope the journey went well for you."

He gazed down, his dark eyes seeming to try and dig into her soul. "Indeed. How faired you?."

"There was a little problem," she admitted, refusing to be cowed when his eye flashed dangerously. "But I took care of it."

He surveyed her for a few more moments before nodding. "Come to my tent later this evening. We will discuss this little problem you speak of."

She bowed again. "As you wish."

He kicked his horse with his spurs to urge him on toward the tents. She gazed after him for a moment, taking note that the saddle bags were bulging. Only reluctantly did she turn to meet the cold gaze she could feel on her. Leven's black eyes were as unnerving and snakelike as usual.

She dipped her head in a cool half bow. "Leven, glad to see you have returned safely," she said coldly, in tone that clearly implied to opposite.

His mouth twisted into a cruel smile. "I am sure," he said sarcastically. "Glad to see that you have managed things so well in our absence."

He leaned down closer to her. "I half expected you to run."

She scowled at him. "I am not as frightened of you as you seem to think."

"No? Well then you won't mind coming by my tent later tonight."

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, but she kept her expression set.

"I am sorry but your father has already told my to report to him this evening."

He made a face of mock disappointment. "Pity."

He straitened and followed after his father. She glared at his back before turning and going back to her tent.

"So, the two devils are back?"

She glared at him. "Don't say that so loud. Your going to get me in trouble."

"Your going to be in trouble anyway when they find out what Brent did while they were gone."

She scowled but then sighed as she settled down next to her tent again, picking up the staff she had left. As she had decided before, there was no point getting angry with him when he spoke the truth.

After carefully looking around she leaned over her work.

"We need to do it tomorrow night," she whispered when he had turned away.

He didn't turn back around, instead he pretended to adjust a flap on his small shelter, his chains clanking.

"Your not ready yet. What you have been trying to do in the past four days Ranger's take four _years_ to master completely."

"Yes, but not all Rangers start with some skill already in place. Also, if everything goes to plan, no one will be looking for me until it's to late."

He didn't answer.

"We can wait a couple more days," he said softly.

"No, we can't," she said with such firmness in her tone that he gave her a sidelong look. She wasn't sure what her expression was like, steady at best, pale at worst. Either or, it was enough to convince him that she meant it.

"Chris, there has to be another way."

"If you have a plan that we can easily execute in twenty four hours, I would love to here it," she said, voice sharper than she had meant to.

He said nothing.

"Why do you want to change it now?" she asked. "You did not oppose it four nights ago."

"Four nights ago I thought our plan would be far enough along that you could do it with relative amount of ease."

She couldn't help snorting. "Easy? You are joking right? There is no part of this that is easy."

He frowned.

"Wrong word. I thought it would be relatively _safe_ for you."

She was so surprised that her knife slipped and she pricked her thumb.

"What?"

He didn't answer, still careful to look away so any observer wouldn't think they were talking. But she couldn't help staring at him. Relizing what she was doing she looked down at her wound, pressing on it to staunch the bleeding.

"Since when had _my _safety been a factor in any plan?" she said.

Still he didn't answer.

For a moment she stopped to think about what he said, and what he was trying to tell her. It clinked guickly, but not easily.

"Yenata" she swore, once again in her native tongue. She leaped to her feet and stormed up to him. Grabbing his shirt front she yanked him around with such force it nearly made him loose his balance.

"Don't you dare," she snarled into his face, quietly but no less powerfully than if she had shouted at him. "Don't you dare start caring about what happens to me."

He looked at her in stunned surprise. "Chris, of course I ca–"

She shook him to stop the words.

"No. You shouldn't. You _can't!_"

"Why not," he said in utter bewilderment.

She gritted her teeth in frustration.

"I'm not going to spell it out for you. But you keep something in mind: your life come first, alright? I do not need you trying to protect me. I do not _want _you to try and protect me."

She shoved him so hard that he reeled backwards, landing hard on his rump. She whirled and ran into her tent.

She knew she overreacted, but she had be unable to help herself. The last thing she needed was Redmond to get protective. It brought about a entire list of problems that she really could not deal with. It would only make things harder if things went wrong. It would make her second plan that much harder to carry out. It would only cause trouble.

Besides, the last one who had tried to protect her ended up dead.

She shuddered, blinking hard when she felt the sting of tears.

Still she couldn't help feeling a small piece of warmth from bubbling in her chest. As much as she resented and worried about it, she couldn't help feeling a little heartened that he cared. The warmth quickly died though

_He doesn't even know who you are, Princess Cristiana, _she said sternly to herself. _You don't deserve his friendship anymore than Leven deserves yours._

She walked steadily toward Watharen's tent, her usual escort of Renagade following a few steps behind. They fell away as she neared her destination but she could still feel their gaze on her back.

Taking a deep breath she entered the tent. Watharen was standing at his table. At the moment it had was filled with food, but one document was spread beside his plate. Leven was sitting next to him, leaning over to converse with him in hushed tones.

"You wanted to see me, my lord?"

Watharen looked up, folding up the parchment. Handing it to Leven he beckoned her over. As she stepped forward Leven depostied the scroll into a dresser before shutting it firmly.

Watharen's eyes were cold as he gazed at her.

"Seems you failed in you mandate while we were away."

She looked at him squarely. "I do not see how."

His gaze darkened, she could see his temper rising.

"I ordered you not to let them on any raids. And yet Brent has informed me that you let twenty of my men raid a seventeen wagon caravan."

She raised an eyebrow. "Did you younger son also tell you that _he _led this raid."

He paused. "No he did not."

"He did. Admitting to the captain of the caravan that he was the leader of the Raven's."

"Brent is an idiot, but he knows better than to disobey father," Leven said.

"It is because he is an idiot that he thought he could get away with it," she interjected. "But, if you do not beilieve me there is little I can do about it."

Watharen studied her for a moment. "Whether he led the raid or not it was still your respoisbilty to stop them before they carried it out. Why did you not stop them?"

"I did not learn about it until they had left. They had left while I was out checking the far eastern look out posts."

"You must have heard something," Watharen said.

"No. I did not. If them men were going on a raid I am the last person they would tell. I am not exactly popular among the other men, my lord."

Watharen acknowledged the point with a nod. She knew that he was aware of the seperation between herself and the Ravens. In fact she was sure he encouraged it. She would not be able to rally the men to her even if she wanted to and she could count on no allies. When it was just her alone, she wasn't much of a threat.

"Do you think the raid was carried out successfully?"

"Yes. I caught up with them half way through and clean everything up."

"I assume then, that the members of the caravan are safe," he commented.

She didn't answer. He knew he was right anyway.

"You disappoint me, Chris. I thought I could rely on you."

"No, I don't think you did," she murmured.

He laughed, a deep, dark, humorless laugh. "Indeed. You are not altogether tactful or trustworthy. But you are insightful at least."

She stood for a while.

"Is that all my lord?"

Watharen threw a glance at Leven who nodded.

"I do belive so. You will think of a punishment for you. In the meantime you are confined to the camp."

She bowed.

"Yes, my lord."

"You may go."

She turned to leave, but stopped when his voice called out to her again.

"It seems you are also having trouble with our prisoner."

It took her a moment to realize that he was refering to the little scene she had had with Redmond a few hours before. One of the Renegades must have seen and reported it.

"Nothing I cannot handle."

"I am sure," he said dryly. "Now off with you."

She hurried out.


	11. Conviction

**I would like to thoroughly apologize to my readers. I am withdrawing my story...just kidding. But I would like to apologize. I know I left you with a huge cliffhanger and then did not post for a few months. I have been busy writing one of my own stories. Sorry again, hope you guys did not give up on me, here are the next chapters**

Chapter 11

Conviction

All the next day Christiana managed to avoid Leven. She would engage in the smallest tasks in order to keep out of his way. Luckily for her, Leven was busy as well. For most of the day he was going in and out of his father's tent. She was pleased to see Brent go in as well and come out looking surly and angry. He shot her a glare when he saw her watching before storming away.

Still, she wasn't able to avoid Leven forever.

She was brushing out Thorn's coat when Leven found her. Thorn might be a pain to ride but he behaved when he was being brushed, at least. He leaned into her hand, eyes half closed with a look of such idiotic contentment on his face that she couldn't help smiling a little.

His ears pricked suddenly and he rolled his head to the side. She glanced over her shoulder then casually turned back to what she was doing, swallowing hard to try and relieve her suddenly dry throat.

Leven stood a few feet away, casually leaning against a tree.

"I thought you hated that pony."

"He's a pain," she corrected. "I don't hate him."

"The same can't be said for me, I suppose," he commented, not seeming bothered by it. In fact he seemed rather pleased by the idea.

Her stony silence was answer enough.

Adrenaline was pumping through her veins and she had to focus to keep her hands from shaking with nervous energy. Her ears easily picked up his movement as he came up behind her.

Trying to seem nonchalant about it, she ducked under Thorn's neck, putting his sturdy body between herself and Leven, continuing to brush over his body.

By the smirk he sent her way, she hadn't fooled him.

He folded his arms and rested them on Thorns back, leaning again them, bringing himself closer to her.

"You can't run and hide from me forever, Chris."

She fixed him with a level stare. "I was not planning to."

He raised an eyebrow, black eyes flashing.

"Glad to hear it. Then you wouldn't mind stopping by my tent tonight, since I was denied to pleasure of your company last night."

Tension made her stomach tight but she determinedly kept her face smooth of emotion.

"Of course," she said simply. "Though I cannot imagine any business you would have with me that you could not have mentioned last night."

"Can't you?" he said with a mocking smile. His hand shot out and grasped her wrist as she passed it over Thorn's coat, yanking her closer until he was nearly in her face.

She didn't have time to react before Thorn did. Vexed at having his grooming cut short his head wiped around and he sunk his big, horse teeth, deep into Leven's arm.

Leven bellowed in pain, instantly releasing Christiana to strike at the horse. Probably not the best idea in the world. Thorn's blow landed seconds after Leven's, in the place where it hurts the most. Even she winced as Leven was flung backwards, landing hard on his back, clutching his groin. Still, for the life of her, she could not hide her grin of glee.

_And _that _is why am and glad that I am a girl and not a boy, _she chuckled to herself.

"Nope," she said cheerfully. "I cannot possibly imagine."

She was sure if he wasn't in so much pain he would have flown at her. Instead he settled with a livid, hate filled glare before staggering to his feet and walking away, making pained noises and limping heavily.

She hurriedly went back to brushing Thorn, practically burying her face in his mane to smother her helpless fits of laughter. Every time she thought she had it under control the picture of Leven's face when he had been kicked set her off again. If there was an edge of hysteria to her laughter she hardly noticed. She was laughing too hard.

She felt more alive in that moment than she had in months.

When she approached her tent again half an hour later she was still trying to suppress huge grins. She had given Thorn an extra apple, as well as a thorough grooming. When she had finished she didn't think that Thorn had looked so fine in his entire life. His brown, chestnut coat had gleamed and his mane and tail hung loose and floating, not a single knot or tangle in it. He had even nudged her gently with his head as she had given him a pat goodbye.

Still, Leven would make her pay for it later tonight. Hopefully that would help what she had in mind.

"What are you smirking about?" a curious voice broke her thoughts.

She looked over at Redmond and grinned widely, smiling all the more when he gave her a startled look. In as quiet of voice as she could manage, shaking a little from barely controlled laughter, she told him what had happened.

Rather than being amused Redmond's face fell in concern.

"He is going to be furious."

"Yes, he is," she said cheerfully. Casually she went over and stirred the ashes of the fire place. Once again trying to hide their conversation in actions. He followed her example, though reluctantly.

"That is not a good thing," he snapped, pulling out handfuls of grass as if board. "How can you go after him to do what needs to be done when he is going to be on the war path and coming after you?"

"He is not coming after me. I am going to him. Tonight. He asked me, well ordered me, to come to his tent."

His expression went instantly from concern to alarm.

"Chris, he's going to have you killed," he said in a hushed voice.

She said nothing.

"He'll have Renegades either waiting to assisinate you, or he will kill you himself."

"No, I do not think that is his intention."

"Why else would he be calling you to his tent."

_I can think of one, _ Christiana thought to herself.

"Information on the raid that Brent pulled off."

She saw him scowl out of the corner of her eye. "Is that what he told you? You really are an idiot, boy, if you believe that."

Her fist clenched around the the stick. "He did not say that. I _know _what he wants. I am just choosing not to tell you."

There was a long silence. "You do not trust me with the information?" he said.

She paused a moment, then. "I do not trust your reaction if you knew the truth," she corrected.

"Why is that?"

She snorted, standing and brushing off her hands.

"Because of the little confession you told me the other day."

She turned away, but not before she saw his face darken.

"It is _that _dangerous?"

She shook her head. "It is no more or less dangerous than when we first came up with the plan. The only thing that has changed is your perspective of it."

She turned to face him head on.

"I can do this Redmond," she said with conviction. "You may think of me as only a young g– boy," she hastily altered, cursing herself for the close slip. "But I know I _can_ do this."

With that she turned and walked away from him. There were some last minute things to do before tonight.

_Oh, Redmond,_she sighed to herself, _what would you do if you found out. Would you think me more incapable of carrying out what needs to be done, or would you become more concerned and try and stop me._

It no longer mattered. He had handed everything over to her the day she came up with the clan and just because he had gained cold feet all the sudden, because of her safety or not, she had not.

_This is is, _she thought firmly, _no matter how it ends tonight I will not live another day under Watharen's or Leven's control. Dead or alive, we will be free of them after tonight._


	12. Trust

Chapter 12

Truth

Christiana adjusted the bands strapped around her torso before slipping her tunic over her head. Combing her hair back with quick fingers she tied it back in a ponytail at the nap of her neck, absently fiddling with the ends.

_I need to chop it again soon, _she thought absentmindedly and almost smiled. To be worrying about such things in the face of what she was about to do was almost humorous. Almost.

Shaking her head to clear it she buckled on her belt, slipping a few items spread out on her bed in the small pouch on her belt and into a few well hidden pockets. Thrusting her knifes into their scabbard she grabbed her cloak and threw it around her shoulders. It felt heavier than normal as it settled around her but she hardly noticed. She would be leaving her bow and quiver behind, they would not do her any good tonight.

Finished she looked around her tent, the walls seemed to shift and quiver as the flame of the single candle that lit the small space sputtered on it's wick, making the shadows dance.

Carefully she checked that she had everything she needed. Three small vials of liquid, two containers of specially prepared salve, rags, a thin but strong cord of rope and a small dagger slipped into her boot. Not that she thought it would provide her much protection if things went wrong.

_They won't, _she told herself firmly.

Still her heart seemed convinced that its soul purpose in life was to beat its way right out of her chest. She also must have tightened the bands to much because she was having a hard time breathing.

Slowly she sank to her cot, bringing her knees up her chest and wrapping her arms tightly around them.

_Airic, _she said, looking upward. _You used to say that Nanna was always watching me, just like your parents were watching you. Please, watch me tonight do not make a mistake. If I can just free Redmond, that will be enough. Nothing more. If he is free he can stop the Raven's. They will never hurt anyone again._

Of course there was no answer. She had never recived any sort of answer when she would think about, and event talk to Airic. Still, it felt good to think that maybe he was listening somewhere.

Letting out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding she shook her head getting to her feet. There was no answer and she would revieve no help. It was up to her.

Leaning over she blew out the candle. It was time.

Walking over to where faint moon light filtered through the tent flap she pushed it aside. Redmond instantly whirled around to face her.

"Chris..." he sarted but she cut him off.

"Enough Redmond. That is enough. I do not want to hear any more of your worries and concerns."

He glared at her for a long moment then he visibly seemed to slump. He leaned back until he hit the pole he was chained to and slowly slid down it. She watched him for a moment before approaching, crouching in front of him.

"Are you alright?"

He fixed her with a baleful glare. "No."

She smiled a little. Looking around she survayed the clearing.

"Seems like Leven's ordered the Renegades away for tonight."

His eyes narrowed at her satisfied tone.

"You guessed he would."

"I did not think he would want them around tonight," she admitted. She looked at him. "He wants me to himself."

His eyebrow raised when he heard the quavering note in her voice.

"What do you mean by that? You know what he is planning?"

"I have an idea, yes."

There was a long silence.

"Chris, what does he want?"

She looked away. "I have to go. Wish me luck."

She stood to leave but his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, keeping her firmly beside him.

"I have not pressed you..." he began but stopped at her dubious look. "Alright, I have, but now I must really ask you to tell me what is going on. Why are you so certain he has not arranged to have you killed?"

She let out a sigh and turned to him, studying his face in the darkness. His face was lined with concern, anxiety and...helplessness. She knew that feeling all too well and she could hardly blame him. For the first phase of the plan he would be staying behind while she went to Leven's tent. In a way, she knew that it would be harder for him than her. At least she would be doing something, able to push away her worries and fear by focusing on what she was doing. He on the other hand would have nothing to distract him, and would have no idea what was going on. He would just be sitting around, waiting, not knowing if things were going badly or well. Not knowing if it would be her, or a bunch of Renegades that would come for him later that night.

She might not be coming back.

The thought made her stomach clench. If things went wrong, then this would be the last time they would see each other.

_I want him to know the truth, _she realized after a moments reflection.

She sucked in a deep breath before slowly letting out.

"Are you sure you want to know?"

He put a hand on her shoulder. "I am prepared for whatever you have to tell me?"

_That's what you think,_she thought to herself.

The words almost seemed to choker her as she prepared to say them. She had been keeping it a secret for so long, if felt strange to finally be telling someone. At the last moment, as the words were on the tip of her tongue she looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

"Redmond, I am a...a girl."

Silence, she did not think he was breathing, she wasn't sure she was breathing either as she waited for his reaction.

Slowly, she looked up into his face. He had the same expression as before, expectant, concerned, determined, but it seemed to have froze there. His eyes were glazed over.

She almost smiled, she couldn't say she was not expecting something like this.

She leaned forward and smiled at him. "Hard to believe, is it not?"

He did nothing, still frozen in shock.

It was realatiley easy for her to pry her wrist free of his grasp and shift her feet under her, preparing to stand. She almost perfered his silence to the reaction she could have easily received.

"Thank you Redmond, _ondaria_," she whispered. "Whatever happens tonight, I am glad I met you."

She leaned in quickly and pecked him on the cheek before standing and walking away.

"See you soon," she called over her shoulder before slipping between the tents and out of sight.

Several minutes later he was still staring after her with the same dazed expression. Slowly he reached up and touched his cheek where she had kissed him.

"Wasn't prepared for that," he said to himself.

His hand dropped to his side and he stared out into the night.

_Good luck, Chris. Make sure not to die, I have a lot questions for you, _he thought.

**I know, I know. Another cliffhanger. Sorry about that but I just can't resist. I will post the next one as quickly as I can.**


	13. Underway

**Warning: Long chapter, intense, and cliffhanger! Just as heads up, Leven tries to take advantage Christiana. Breif summary at end if you want to skip it though it really isn't that bad,**

Chapter 13

Underway

Christiana stood in the shadows of one of the many tents, once again checking if she had everything. It was not really necessary but it helped calm her nerves a little. She took out one of the vials. Tilting her head back she swallowed a measured mouthful before putting it back in its place, now half full. Then she took the small tin of salve and dabbed her fingers in it before smearing it across her lips. She also put a little on her neck.

The salve was made from a special plant. If it was eaten or drunk without being diluted it would kill within a few hours unless then antidote was given, but with the right mixture it made a sleep inducing drug.

For a while she stood there, hesitating, looking back to the day she and Redmond had been preparing for this. He had wondered why she was making it a drug instead of keeping it a poison.

_A dead man can not tell you anything useful, _she had snapped at him, but really the thought of killing someone, even Leven made her feel like she was going to be sick. It wakened thoughts that she worked so hard to keep out of her mind.

She pulled herself away from the memory. _You're playing for time, _she snapped at herself. _Stop acting like a coward._

Taking a deep breath, the musky scent of the salve smeared on her lips making her wrinkle her nose a little. A few men were lounging about in front of the fires, talking and chatting. Some called out rude comments as she stalked past, but none of them approached.

The tents were set up like a wheel. Watharen's command near the middle, with a wide open cleared are in front of it while the rest of the tents were positioned around it. The main cook tent was on one side of the cleared area, the store tents on another, Watharen's tent and then Leven's tent across from it. Men, some of them Renegades, were strewn throughout the clearing, eating or gambling one with each other. She did not even look up when a fight broke out only a few yards away, it happened to often to be even remotely surprising.

The time it took to walk across the clearing seemed far long than it should have. Her heart was still pounding, her senses seemed to have heightened.

Finally she stood in front of Leven's tent. A few Renegades were huddled around a fire near by and a couple of them looked up but they did nothing but watch her as she reached up and rapped on the pole supporting the tent.

"Come in," the familiar voice drawled.

She stepped inside.

His tent was bigger than her own of course. The furniture was some of the finest that the Raven's had stolen so far, a square oak table with four high-backed chairs around it, a desk, wooden couches and arm chairs covered in cushions and a four poster bed on the far side. She almost rolled her eyes when she saw all the furniture, it would be a nuisance to move those should the Raven's ever switch locations.

The two men in the tent looked up as she entered and her heart nearly stopped when at first glance she though the second man was Watharen. But it was only Brent, looking angry and skeptical.

"So," he snarled in his gravelly voice, whirling on his brother again, "not only do you refuse to tell me what you and father have been up to, you also are throwing me out of your tent in order to talk to the Runt."

Leven stared coolly at his brother.

"If father chooses not to tell you it is hardly my place to do so," he pointed out. "And I have business with this 'Runt'. As I cannot imagine anything you could say that would be the slightest interest to me, I will ask you to leave."

Brent flushed red with rage, but he did not dare refuse. Even if Leven was his brother that did not mean that Leven could not be as dangerous to him as he was to everyone else in camp.

He turned on his heels and stormed out of the tent, giving Christiana a murderous glare before ripping aside the tent flap and disappearing outside.

She raised an eyebrow's as she heard his booming footsteps fade away, letting loose a dramatic sigh. "Ah, brotherly love, always so touching."

Leven leaned back in his chair regarding her. It reminded her so much of his father that she had to suppress a shudder.

"I am not interested in brotherly love tonight," he finally said after a long pause. The way he said it, with the slight emphasis on 'brotherly' made her stomach twist itself into a knot.

She nearly jumped right out of her skin when there was a knock on the tent pole behind her, her heart pounding so hard that she almost missed Leven's gruff "Come in."

A small man bustled into the tent. He was shorter than even she was, with thin graying hair, small, watery black eyes, and a body like a crow, hunched and scrawny. She recognized him instantly as the camp cook. She used to bring him fresh game regularly enough and as a reward he would usually flavor her meals with the spices that were usually only used for Watharen, his sons and the camp commanders.

In his hands he held a huge, covered, silver tray, another one of the bandits spoils. It looked far to big for him and she was almost sure he would fall over as he went past her.

"Your dinner as you requested, Master Leven," he croaked.

Leven waved a hand toward the table, not sparing the man so much as a glance. "Put it over there."

As bidden the cook hurried over to the table, heaved the tray onto the table then turned around and left as quickly as he came.

"If you are about to eat dinner I can come back later," she said icily.

He ignore her, lifting the dome to see the food, letting a column of steam to escape in the process. Normally the delicious smell would have made her mouth water but at the moment she had not appetite whatsoever.

Before anything more was said the cook was back, carrying a small cask under one are while in the other he balanced a set of dishes, goblets and silverware. This time he did not speak, simply placing the items near the tray and then leaving. For a moment his small black eyes met hers, glinting with curiosity before he disappeared.

Her quick eyes took in the fact that the wood of the cask was dark and wet, and that there were two sets of tableware.

_What is he up to? _She wondered.

"Are you hungry, Chris?" Leven asked abruptly.

"No," she said, sounding more firm than she felt. "If that is all you wanted to ask me I will take my leave."

She turned to walk out, knowing he would stop her. So when there was a faint whistling sound and something flashed by her ear and buried itself into the tent pole, she was not all together surprised. Still, she stopped in her tracks staring at the heavy throwing dagger that had just missed her head.

Slowly she turned to face him, already he had another dagger out, expertly tossing it into the air so it flipped end over end before falling back down to allow his hands to catch the blade almost deftly.

"You might want to know," he said mildly, "that those renegades outside are ordered to kill you if you step out of this tent."

She narrowed her eyes. "What else have you told them?"

He smirked. "Nothing except that they are to remain outside unless I call them, no matter what else they may hear. Do not worry, your secret is still safe with me."

"Is that why you wanted me here? To talk about my 'little secret'?" she said bitterly.

"Partly," he said, reminding her forcibly of the hiss of a snake as it looked into the eyes of its paralyzed pray.

For a long moment there was silence as he continued to gaze at her with his cold, dark eyes.

"Leave your weapons and cloak over there," he said, waving at the corner at the entrance. "You will not need them."

_I am sure, _she thought dryly to herself.

Seeing the resentment in her eyes Leven stopped tossing his dagger, holding it ready. The message could not be clearer.

Reluctantly she pulled her weapons from her belt, dropping them so they landed point first, their sharp blades sinking into the group. For the smallest of seconds she was tempted to throw them with all her might at Leven's chest but it was only for a moment. She knew better than most that Leven could easily kill her before the blade left her hand.

Yanking the strings of her cape she let it drop to a crumpled heap on the ground behind her. Once again she had to suppress a shudder as his eyes traveled up and down her body.

"Come here," he ordered.

She came, grudgingly, but she did walk over to stand in front of the table across from him. With a wave of his hand he indicated she should sit and she did.

"What do you want Leven?" she snapped in exasperation, anxiety making her impatient.

He reached for one of the silver plates that cook had brought. "You will dine with me tonight," he said confidently. "Afterward we will talk about what I want."

When he had finished setting up his dishes he reached over and pulled of the dome of the tray. Despite herself her eyes widened a little when she saw what lay steaming on the silver. A chicken, roasted and slathered in a spicy sauce, glistening slices of ham, steaming vegetables swimming in a thick, white soup with chunks of meat and sprinkled with spice, fruits artfully piled off to the side and in the very middle of the tray a pile of several different pastries, some covered in stripes of caramel and chocolate, others dusted with cinnamon and sugar, others dipped in white frosting while the rest of them had chunks of various berries on them.

_I haven't seen a spread like this since I left the palace, _she thought, a little astounded, and almost instantly suspicious.

"You should feel honored. The cook will only make meals like this for my father, Brent and myself."

"It is an impressive meal," she admitted, though she eyed the food warily.

Ignoring her distrustful gaze he began to serve himself, piling food onto his plate and scooping soup into his bowl. He looked up when she did not do the following suite.

"Eat Chris," he commanded.

She glared at him. "I already told you I am not hungry, I will wait until you are finished.

His eyes narrowed and he nudged the silver laden tray toward her along with the remaining dishes.

"Eat, Chris," there was a edge to his voice that made it sound as if he was adding "or else."

After they had stared each other down for a while she finally snatched up her plate and piled a few items on it, before digging in.

They were only interrupted once, by a messenger at the door. Leven got up and sent him running, not at all pleased to be disturbed. Besides that he did nothing but stare at her the entire time until the last bite had slid down her throat.

"Alright," she snapped, pushing her plate and wine glass away. "What do you want Leven. I do not have all night."

"Ah, but I think you do," he said getting up from the table. She tensed but he only turned away and began to stroll around the room, blowing out the candles on the tall candle sticks. The shadows lengthened and darkened, painting the room in a semi darkness.

As his back was turned she reached into her pouch once more, opened the tin and smeared more of the salve on her lips. Just a little longer.

"I know your secret, Chris. And if you want to keep it as such then I suggest you do as I say."

She got to her feet as if furious. "And what is that? You have not told me what you wanted?"

Slowly he turned to look at her.

"How old are you? I have already guessed that you were young or you never would have been able to disguise the fact that you are a girl. But you cannot be so young and naive as to have no idea what I might want with you."

"I do not know what you are talking about," she snapped. "I do not see how knowing my little secret would make the slightest difference."

He slowly walked toward her, almost stalked toward her.

"You are naive," he said with a smirk.

Before she could answer back his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. She always knew he was fast, that was one thing that made him such a feared knife thrower, but his sudden movement startled her. She gasped as he yanked her towards him, slamming her into his chest.

"What are you doing?" she hissed frantically, though inside she was nearly screaming in triumphant, this is what she needed him to do. Still, the feeling of his arms winding around her, pinning her arms to her side and crushing her to him made her inside wither in horror.

He leered down at her, lowering his head.

"Let me relieve you of your ignorance."

"As if you know enough to–" she snarled before his lips slammed down onto hers with bruising force, abruptly cutting off her response.

For a second she forgot everything, forgot about what she was hoping to accomplish, forgot about Redmond, forgot about everything. Revulsion and horror filled her. All she could think about was getting away from Leven.

She struggled wildly in his arms, trying to squirm free. She forced her hands between them, shoving at his chest to try and pry their bodies apart. He only crushed her closer, driving the breath from her lungs.

Her feet scrambled against the ground, trying to find enough purchase to pull away. It was no good. Leven was ten times stronger and heavier than she was.

_Think, _she screamed at herself, _what did Airic always use to say. 'The mind is stronger than might. Use your head and there is nothing that can hold you back._

She stopped struggling, trying to calm herself enough to think. She had been planning, even expecting this. She was here for a purpose, she had something to do and she needed to do it.

She pried her lips apart, opening her mouth, he was only too eager to thrust deeper, tilting his head to the side to deepen the kiss. She nearly gagged when she felt his tongue swipe over her lips and brush against her teeth, but she forced herself to wait as he did it several more times, unknowingly wiping up the salve she had smeared on her lips.

After a while he pulled back, looking down at her. "You seem to be more submissive then usual. Has the great lion finally tamed the lioness."

She glared up at him, wriggling in his grasp.

"Let go of me."

To her surprise he unwound one of his arms and wagged his finger at her as if she if she was a child that had been caught bringing a wild pet into the house again.

"You still have to learn your place, little girl. Ever since my father brought you into the Raven's you have been nothing but aloft. Thinking all high of yourself just because you can tell what end of an arrow is which and can shoot it."

She scowled but not because she was insulted, she could care less what he thought, no she was watching anxiously to check for signs that the drug was working. Once it was in his system it should take only a couple minutes to spread and knock him out.

He leaned his head closer to her. Automatically she shied away, making him smirk even wider.

"It is time you learn your place."

Before she could say anything more he aimed for her mouth again. At the last second she ducked her head to the side, causing his lips to collide with her cheek.

"Leven, whether your father no longer has a need for me or not he is not going to be very happy when he finds out that you kept a secret from him."

He snorted, pulling back. "He has more important things on his mind then a girl who does not know how to dress properly."

She scowled.

He studied her for a moment. "Moving an entire operation is not easy."

For a moment all she could feel was relief. She had seen a slightly glazed look come over his eyes. The drug was beginning to take affect, then his words sank in and she jumped.

"Move?"

He smirked. "Yes. That was what we were doing, finding a new area for the Raven's to go to. Staying in one place too long is a sure way to be found, besides he has his sights set on bigger things than just robbing caravans."

"Like what?"

"The throne."

She stared at him, feeling her face draining of color. The thought of Watharen on _any_ throne was alarming. Her father was a selfish and cruel man and the kingdom suffered under his rule. Watharen was worse, much worse then her father.

Before she could wrap her head around it, or even decide what to do with this new information Leven leaned in closer, his mouth brushing her ear.

"My father wants to follow in the steps of his. My grandfather tried to take the throne a few decades past but failed. Now Watharen has found means of harnessing the same power as his father once did. He will not make the same mistakes and his plan will succeed. I will be a prince, and someday the king."

She nearly choked. If the thought of Watharen being king was alarming, the thought of Leven being king was down right terrifying.

_I need to tell Redmond, _she thought desperately, _his kingdom is in serious trouble._

She renewed her struggles. "As if I want to know your history," she snarled. "Let go."

He shook his head, eyes becoming more glazed.

"No."

His mouth came down on hers again. She kicked at him with her feet, but he simply adjusted his grip on her and lifted her into the air. The walls of the tent blurred and he bore her backwards until they both fell onto his bed.

She was unable to suppress a small cry of pain as his weight pinned her flat. She couldn't breath, he had pushed the air from her lungs and she could not suck any in with him heavy on her chest.

With her body pinned to the mattress his arms were free to roam. One hand slipped under her head, tangling into the roots of her hair as he gripped the back of her skull. When his mouth hungrily found hers she could not turn her face away or move a muscle.

_Oh please, _she prayed, _please, the drug has to take affect soon. Please. __Please._

"Your mine," he whispered as his mouth grazed her neck.

_Please._

He brought his mouth back to herself, catching her lower lip between his teeth.

He pulled away slightly, looking down into her wide green eyes with his black ones.

Heart pounding in terror she braced herself, knowing there was no help, that there would be no stopping him.

Her terror was so overwhelming, so complete, it took her a moment to realize that he had stiffened, gone still over her.

Hardly daring to believe it, she opened her eyes.

He was gazing back at her with a muddled expression. His arms shook as he lifted himself up, shaking his head trying to clear it of the sudden fog that had filled his mind.

Arms free she pushed him. Like a tree he toppled sideways, landing on his side next to her. His limbs twitched oddly and his mouth opened and shut like a gaping fish.

She sat up, watching him. Sure enough she could see the dark blue veins spreading up his viens that indicated the presence of the drug. Profound relief washed through her and she almost broke down and cried. But she didn't. There was no time for that.

She yanked her legs out from under his, swiftly getting to her feet. Leaning over she examined him closely.

"Stabbed by your own sword, in a sense Leven," she said softly to him. "I knew exactly what you wanted. So I made a special concoction and put it on my lips so when you kissed me it would put you to sleep. You were to over confident."

He made a gargling sound before his eyes slowly shut.

Reaching into her hidden pockets and her pouch she pulled out the vials and tins. The tins were the salve, one hidden inside the cuff of her sleeve just in case she could not reach the other one. Two of the vials were the antidote to the drug. She had made sure to take some before hand so she would not be put to sleep if any got into her system. During the dinner she had managed to slip more into her goblet and put more salve on her lips when he had gotten up to send away the messenger. The last vial held a liquid version of the drug. Placing it aside she reached into the pouch once more and pulled out the rags and cord before putting them next to the vial before putting the rest back in the pouch.

Taking the vial she got onto the bed once more. Prying Leven's jaw apart she poured the liquid in. She knew it would not last long though. The poison was very powerful and it burned through the system very quickly. It was a little slower in its diluted, drug state but not by much.

Carefully she checked that he had no weapons on him before reaching into his shirt and catching the chain there. Right there, around his neck, was the key that went to Redmond's chains. He had flaunted them in front of her face enough before, that she knew he would not have been without them tonight.

With a swift yank she pulled it over his head and pulled it over her own. It took some work but she managed to roll him onto his back, pull his arms behind him and reached for the cord. By the time she was finished he was tied from head to toe. His feet where tied to the end of the bed and a specail noose wound around his neck and attacked to the bed post. Once he woke up, if he struggled to much, it would tighten and choke him.

Finally she stuffed as many of the rags into his wide mouth as she could, using the last couple to wind around his head to hold the wad in place.

She only paused a moment to examine her handy work before throwing one of the blankets over him. She did not have time to stand around and reveal in her victory. The drug would ware off too soon, and there was no telling when somebody might come in.

Racing over to the other side of the tent she snatched up her weapons, sliding them back into their scabbards. Then she picked up her cloak. Hidden underneath her plain cloak was another cloak. A cloak that was molten colors of gray and green. Redmond's ranger cloak. Redmond had been giving her tips how to use it to its greatest advantage for the past few days. As Redmond had said, she had worked hard to mater what the Ranger's learned over years of practice and training. But it was now vital that she got through the camp unseen. The Renegades were under orders to kill her if she appeared outside and everyone else would be on the alert.

Tying her own cloak around her waist, she cast one last glance at the mound that was Leven before hurrying to the back of the tent.

_I cannot believe it, _she thought as she reached for one of her daggers. _I actually managed to defeat Leven._

She did not feel happy, or triumphant, or even grim satisfaction. She felt numb, surreal almost as if she were dreaming. Her hand was trembling around the dagger hilt, making the sharp point quaver.

_Your in shock,_she said to herself. _You need to calm down. You need all you senses ready for this next part._

Taking deep breaths she reached forward with the dagger and forced it through the canvas wall, opening a small hole. She peeked through, examining the area beyond it. There was no one near by, as far as she could see though it was a little to bright for her peace of mind. The shadows of the tents behind his seemed to be almost mocking her as they flickered in the torch light emanating from the clearing.

Carefully she made the tear larger, looking to make sure no one was near by every few seconds. Finally she completed it, a slash about up to her waist. Getting to her knees she began to crawl through it. Just as she was almost out she heard raucous laughter and the two shadows appeared on the grass a few feet from her. They were the shadows of two men.

Her heart seemed to have stopped as she madly scrambled backwards, trying to stay silent as she did so. Her hands were trembling once again as she frantically pinched the canvas shut. Biting her lip she waited breathlessly as the men came nearer.

"What do you think that princeling Leven wants with that runt?" one rumbling voice said.

"Be quiet, he'll hear you," another voice hissed.

"Oh right."

The two men fell silent and their footsteps slowly faded away.

For quiet some time she remained frozen, locked in place by anxiety. Shaking herself out of her petrified state she once again crawled through the flap. The shadow of Leven's tent was not very long but it was enough to hide her as she slipped completely out. Now there was only a stretch of the open aile then she would be in the safety of the shadows.

But during that brief period of time she would be completely exposed. Heart pounding in her throat she tensed, ready to spring up and sprint across the treacherous space.

Just as she was about to launch herself into the open she stopped herself.

_That is the biggest mistake most people make, _Redmond had told her over and over again at least half a dozen times. _They move too fast. Just like you lay in wait for a deer or a rabbit when you are hunting, you cannot move quickly when you are trying not to be seen. A figure moving quickly is far more likely to catch a searchers eye than a slow one. Nice and easy is the key. Take your time, no matter how much you may want to hurry. Even if you think you have been seen _do not move! _Trust the cloak to hide you._

She had told him several times that she knew this but he had said it over and over again regardless. It was a good thing too or she might have forgotten in her frantic haste to get to the shadows.

There was only one things to do.

Though every instinct in her screamed to remain as small as possible, she straitened, standing up right. Her legs threatened to collapse as she stepped forward out in the open, but through sheer will power she forced herself to step forward and walk as casually as she could across the open space.

Those few steps felt like the longest ones in her life. Her blood was pumping so fast that a dull roar filled her ears and her mouth was so dry it almost hurt.

But she made it. No one called out to her, no alarm was raised. Knees weak with relief she slipped into the shadows, pulling the hood of the cloak over her head and pulling it down low.

_Nothing but smooth sailing now, _she thought to herself, using the favorite saying of the captain she had once worked under. _Hopefully._

Hand clutching the key she merged with the black night and disappeared.

Once again she felt tears of relief prick her eyes as Redmond's pole and shelter came into view. The trip back had been fairly easy compared to the first few moments of it but there had been a few moments when she was sure she would be caught. One of them was when she was nearly stepped on by Brent as he stormed out of one of the tents.

But she had made it. Only a few more yards and she could crawl in the blackness of Redmond's small tent.

Carefully she traversed the last part of her journey, soundless as a phantom until she pushed aside the flap and ducked inside.

"Redmond," she said softly into the darkness, reaching blindly with her hands. "Redmond, I did it. I got the key."

There was no answer, but she could hear the soft sound of breathing and feel the chain under her searching hands. Had he fallen asleep on a night like this?

Before she could call out again or even touch him she froze. Something cold, thin and sharp was pressed against the skin of her neck.

"Well done, Chris," an unfamiliar voice whispered in her ear. "Now, would you please give that key to me."

**I know, I know. Another cliffhanger. Sorry, sorry.**

**Summary for those of you who skipped this chapter: She has a drug in the form of a salve so she does her best to get Leven worked up. When he kisses her he gets the drug in his system and knocks him out. She gets the key for Redmond's manacles and ties Leven up, leaving the tent by slicing a hole in the back and read the last 30 paragraphs to see how she gets back to Redmond.**

**I know this chapter was a little more...um...intense then the others. I did try and give you guys plenty of warning as to what was going to happen, that Leven was going to attack her. So I hope it did not freak any of you out too much.**

**This is one of the times I am going to beg for you to review. I have never been very good at writing action packed, intense, scary scenes, so you have to tell me how I did as soon as you finish reading it so I can decide whether to change it or delete it completely and put in a different line to to the story.**

**Also, something about the last chapter. You know when Leven gets kicked by Thorn, was that too funny? Or was it even funny? I haven't ever been really good with humor either. I just thought the story could use a little lightening up, and after that lightening this chapter would seem all that more exciting. You know like when you go from bright sunlight into a dim room and can't see anything. If you think it is a little oddly place tell me so I can delete it and save it for later in the story.**

**Thank you so much for reading. And I will have the next chapter up as soon as I can. I have a long weekend so I will have time to write it.**


	14. Two Rangers

Chapter 14

Two Rangers

Christiana didn't dare more a muscle, but, once again that night, her hear was racing faster than a startled rabbit. Her breath came in chocked gasps. All she had been through tonight, after everything she had done she had ended up with a dagger at her throat.

Finally she recovered enough to speak.

"Who are you? What have you done with Redmond?"

"I'm here, Chris."

She let out a sigh of relief. Only to stiffen again as her brain registered that he was here, yet he had not answered her when she was calling him.

The knife was pulled away from her throat, only to have her pushed to the ground, her hands roughly brought together. Two loops slipped over her wrists and tightened abruptly.

"No," she gasped, struggling in the man's grip, trying to free herself.

"Will, you do not need to do that," Redmond's voice said from the darkness. "Chris, are you alright?"

"Great," she snapped sarcastically. "Just splendid."

They both ignored her acidic tone.

"We can not take any chances, Redmond," the unfamiliar voice said. Will. "I will admit, he seems like a nice boy. But from what you told me so far you know nothing about his past, his intentions, or what he was planning after the two of you escaped. We cannot take the chance that he will warn them while we are sneaking through the camp after Watharen."

She froze. They were going after Watharen?

"Leven, you can't," she said desperately. "He'll kill you."

She felt Redmond's hand on her shoulder. She could tell it was his, because Will's were currently tying her legs together.

"You dealt with Leven tonight. I think the both of us can handle Watharen."

She nearly screamed in frustration.

"I had a few things to my advantage that you do not have."

"What is he talking about?" Will asked.

There was an awkward pause. "I will tell you later, after this is over."

Seeming satisfied Will continued with his task. Redmond leaned down toward her.

"We are going to have a looooong talk about your little _advantages_. You nearly stopped my heart with that little piece of news and once I realized what they meant."

She glared up at his dark outline. "Not my problem that you cannot handle such information." She pulled back her legs and kicked Will hard. "Stop it, trust me, the last thing on my mind is warning the Ravens that your here."

He caught her legs again and pinned them under one of his knees.

"It is partly for your safety, Chris," he snapped, not at all please about being kicked. "If the Ravens cause trouble than there is going to be a battle and a boy like you shouldn't get mixed up in the likes of that."

"So instead your going to leave me bound and helpless?" she snarled.

"Don't worry, all the fighting will be away from here and Redmond will be coming back for you as soon as we deal with Watharen. Thanks to you, we will not have to worry about Leven for a little while," Will said as he finished tying her up. "Gag him."

She growled.

"That is not necessary Will," Redmond told him sternly. "You have already taken this a little too far."

"Your the one who wanted him out of trouble," Will replied. The way he said it made her think he was shrugging.

Redmond sigh, his chains clanking as he leaned closer. "Stay quiet for a couple hours. I'll come and get you before dawn."

"Untie me and I will be as quiet of mouse," she snapped.

"I don't think so," Will said. "Redmond, we need to hurry."

"Alright, alright," Redmond snapped. As he moved to go he put a hand on her forehead. "Get some rest if you can. You need it."

"Right, sleep while you are going to hunt one of the most dangerous men in this country with a few dozen bloodthirsty Ravens surrounding you."

"My turn," he chuckled. "Where is the key?"

She let out a sigh. "Around my neck."

His hand slid from her forehead down her neck until he felt the thin chain under his fingers. Grasping it he carefully lifted it above her head.

"See you in a while."

She heard the clank of chains as he inserted the key into the lock of his manacles and they dropped off his wrists. He leaned down again to pull his cloak over her head and then he and Will were gone. She did not even hear their retreating footsteps.

_Stupid fool is trying to protect me. _She thought in exasperation. _That is why he did not stop Will from tying my up._

Still, it was not fair. After all she had been through tonight he was now forcing her into the role he had been in earlier tonight: waiting helplessly for a friend to come back when there was a very real possibility she would never see him again.

She listened carefully, straining her ears for the slightest sound. At one point she reached for her daggers, unable to stand the tension any longer, only to discover that one of the rangers had disarmed her without her knowing it.

_Sneaky rat._

After a while, everything that happened that night caught up with her. Her mind could no longer deal with the stress and it promptly shut down.

_I think I forgot to take more of the antidote. _She managed to think to herself. Some of the drug had entered her system. Before she realized it, she was fast asleep.

Will and Redmond crept through the camp, side by side, just like old times.

"There is something strange about that boy," Will murmured out of the side of his mouth.

Redmond let out a soft, humorless laugh.

"You have no idea."

Will gave the other ranger a sidelong look.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I will tell you later. Just give me a chance to figure it out completely myself."

"Fair enough."

They nodded in silent agreement and parted ways to carry out their various tasks.

**I am sorry it is so short and sloppily done, but at least in ends to cliffhanger. I'm also sorry because I told you guys I would get it up sooner, but something came up. I am very busy at the moment, but I promise, even though I might not post for a while, I am not planning on abandoning my story.**


	15. The Snake Strike

Chapter 15

The Snake Strike

Christiana woke with a start a couple hours later, a gloved hand on her shoulder.

"Redmond?" she said, blinking groggily.

"No," Will said softly. Alarm shot through her as she looked up into the unfamiliar face. It took a moment for her to remembered who he was and register that she could see him. He had a candle sitting on the ground beside her.

"Where is Redmond?"

He hesitated for a moment, instantly making her heart pound in panic and she sat up, wincing when it pulled at her bound arms funny.

"What happened? Is he hurt?"

"No, no, he's alright."

She sighed in relief. "Where is he then?"

"He's tracking the boy, Leven."

The panic instantly returned, her blood ran cold. She felt like shards of ice were imbedded in her veins.

"How is that possible? I had him tied up and unconscious in his tent."

"I sent some of my men to retrieve him. They only found cut ropes."

She gaped at him then swore violently, making the ranger jump.

"Get these ropes of me," she snapped at him. "It is my fault he is loose, I need to find him."

"Redmond felt the same way, that is why he is looking for him now."

"Of course he is," she grumbled under her breath. "_Don tonorus_."

"What was that."

"In your language, the idiot," she translated promptly.

Will laughed. "Alright then."

He reached toward her belt. She looked curiously at the strange double scabbard hanging on his hip but did not comment. However, she did stiffen in alarm when he drew one of the knifes from said scabbard.

"Relax," he said, leaning over and cutting away the bindings on her legs.

She got to her feet so fast the top of her head collided with the canvas. Cursing she ducked, scrambling for the entrance only for a strong hand to stop her in her tracks.

"Take it easy there, boy. You do not need to worry. Redmond can handle himself. He is a ranger after all."

"I have not seen you rangers do _anything_ that makes that comment reassuring," she snapped.

He raised an eyebrow. "Or really? How about this?"

Grasping the rope of her bound hands he pulled her outside. At first she had no idea why he was looking so satisfied with himself. There were men everywhere, bringing down tents. But she did not recognize them. In fact, none of them were Ravens. They all wore full armor, or tunics with the kingdoms symbol on the chest.

She blinked in confusion.

"What happened to all the Ravens?"

"Their all being held under guard in the clearing. Though some of them fled in the confusion."

"Watharen?"

"Tied up and being watched carefully by the second in command and two of the best knights in the group."

She gaped at him, her emotions waring between disbelief and another emotion that she could not quiet place but was growing stronger and stronger every moment. It made her want to shout for joy and cry all at the same time. She quickly pushed it back before it could get out of control. One of the most valuable skills she had learned back in the palace was to hide her emotions. She used it now as she kept her passive expression in place.

"I am impressed," she said finally.

He gave her and almost insulted look. Then he just shrugged, taking her shoulder in his hand he led her toward the clearing. As they passed the torches she took the opportunity to examine her captor and Redmond's comrade. He was not very old, late twenties, early thirties. He wasn't very tall either, only a couple inches over her five foot two. He had a shock of brown, unruly hair, and brown eyes. He had a rather pleasant face, with a firm jaw and strait nose. He had laugh lines around his mouth and eyes that made her think that he spent most of his time smiling. But there was no sign of that smile. He looked stern and a little anxious. She wondered if he was as worried about Redmond as she was.

They entered the clearing and she looked around. Most of the Ravens were on one side of the clearing, surrounded by several dozen knights in armor who had their crossbows and swords at the ready while a couple knights moved among them, tying them their hands together and connecting them all with loops around their necks. The bandits weapons were piled far away from them and guarded by four more knights. And there, right in front of the command tent, Watharen was on his knees, powerful wrists clamped in irons another pair around his ankles. Chains trailed from each, attached to two large iron bars. She hoped they were very heavy. If they were not than they had not restrained Watharen so much as they had given him a pair of weapons. Brent was kneeling by his father, also chained. A handful of the bandit captains and lead Renegades were also tied up on the other end of the clearing. Will led her over to where Watharen was and gently but firmly pushed her to her knees a few feet from the bandit leader.

One of the knights eyed her.

"Oy, he's that boy," he said excitedly. "Hey Captain, it's that boy who saved your neck," he called out to an older knight giving instructions to some of the men.

The captain raised his head. When his eyes fell on Christiana recognition sparked there. He murmured something to his men and then walked over to stand next to Will.

"So you did catch him? I thought he would have slipped away."

It took her a moment to realize why the burly man looked familiar. He had been the captain over the caravan that Brent had raided. She stared then laughed to herself. Clever, very clever. The caravan had been a ruse to draw out the Ravens, no doubt so the Will could follow them. She looked at the Ranger with new eyes. Maybe their reputation was rightfully placed after all.

"No, he did no try and run."

The captain frowned in confusion however Will shook his head and shot a significant look at Watharen who was glaring at them.

"I will tell you more about it later."

The captain nodded and eyes were again.

"Does he need more restraints."

Will hesitated then shook his head. "He'll behave himself. Won't you."

She grimaced at being talked to like a child but she nodded, sitting back on her calves to show she was moving. All the same the captain called over another guard to watch her as he and Will walked away to organize the taking down of the camp and the confinement of the prisoners.

She just watched and observed, not at all interested in in trying to escape. Not at the moment, anyway. Until Redmond returned she would not even think about it so she continued to scan the tree ling anxiously, praying she would see him appear out of thin air.

There was someone watching her as well. Or rather trying to kill her on the spot with his glare. She turned and met Watharen's gaze with a level stare. His dark eyes were full of so much anger and hatred that she felt as if someone had dropped a block of ice into her stomach. Instead of letting it show she forced a smirk which only made his eyes go from blazing to black, bottomless pits of cold rage.

She looked away, unable to look any longer.

Redmond appeared so suddenly right in front of her that she lunged backwards, startled, landing hard on her rump.

"Redmond," she gasped. "Don't _do _that."

He smiled a little. "Not my fault. I thought you were more observant that that."

She scowled. "I have other thing on my mind."

She tilted her head toward Watharen who was watching the two of them. The ranger looked up and nodded in understanding.

"I can see why that would put you on edge. Do not worry about him though, I will arrange to have you moved away soon."

"I would rather have my hands untied," she snapped crossly then looked around. "Where's Leven?"

Redmond shook his head, face darkening. "He has a horse and is riding it at a hard gallop north. I just went far enough to make sure he would not double back."

He must have seen her face drain of color because he crouched down in front of her so he was at her level.

"Chris, it's all right. I promise I will not let him get anywhere near you. I will get my horse, track him down and have him here to keep his father company before you can miss me."

"The thought of you going after Leven leaves me feeling worse than when I went after him tonight."

He grinned. "Well, now you know how I felt."

Once again she scowled and looked away. "I should be the one looking for him," she murmured.

"Oh no, you should not," he snapped so suddenly that it made her jump. "I said nothing before because I could see no other possible way. Now, there is no way I am going to let you go anywhere near the boy until he is safely under lock an key."

She raised her hands. "Like me?"

He did have the decency to look a little ashamed about that but he just shrugged helplessly.

"I would rather have you tied up and surrounded by guards here, than have you loose and looking for a dangerous criminal. Besides," he said, lowering his voice. "I have some questions for you and I am not going to have you untied until they are answered."

With that he stood up and approached Will who was waiting near by and they both walked off a ways to talk.

Will jerked his head back in the direction of the small boy that was glaring after Redmond.

"Do you think we should untie him? He seems to be behaving himself."

Redmond shook his head. "Absolutely not. The moment we let him go he will find the first opportunity to slip away."

"I thought you trusted him."

"I do. But I always knew while we were planning our escape that he was not planning on sticking with me for long after. Every time I would start to talk about plans afterward he would tell me that "we would cross the bridge when we get there"."

Will raised an eyebrow in amusement and looked over his shoulder at the boy.

"He's very forward for someone so young."

"You have no idea," Redmond said dryly.

Will smiled then got to the matter at hand.

"I think I should go after this Leven," he said.

Redmond stopped in his tracks. "Why?"

"Because _your_ horse is at the village stables," Will pointed out. "Also Leven has not seen my face yet. Also because you know the camp better so you can decide what best to do with all of these Ravens. Also–"

"Alright, alright. You have made your point," Redmond snapped, cutting him off.

Will nodded and headed toward where Tug was waiting for him. He looked one more time at the boy who was watching them.

"Keep an eye on him, Redmond. He is young and I know you say you trust him but you have told me over and over how clever he is. He could easily be cleaver enough to have blind sided you."

With that he gently tapped Tug's side and the small, shaggy pony leaped into a smooth gallop.

The rest of the night was long, as was much of the following day. By the time they had the bandits organized, the camp brought down and the stolen goods loaded into wagons the sun was already beginning to go down. It would be dark before they reached the city where a compound was waiting for the bandits.

As he has promised Redmond separated her from Watharen, placing her in the command tent, leaving a young soldier to watch her. The young man was nice enough, bringing her breakfast and lunch, he even tried to strike up a conversation a few times which she only responded with indifferent silence. Not that she did not want to talk but she really was not interested in making anymore friends among her newest captors. As good as Redmond was, and thought he said he was only doing it for her protection, there was no denying that that was what he was.

Now they were finally on the move. Watharen was loaded into a wagon with more chains bolted into the wood itself with a small army of ten guards surrounding it. The rest of the men were tied up into two columns with ropes around their neck. One could not run without taking all of them with them and since they were all forbidden to talk they're was no way to coordinate an escape.

Christiana was currently riding, on Thorn. The lead held firmly in the grasp of the same young man. He was riding Watharen's stallion, positioned to Christiana's left and watching her carefully. Her hands were tied in front of her but she had no intention of escaping at the moment. Not until she knew Leven was caught.

"I would not do that if I were you," she said mildly as the young soldier tugged at Thorn's lead. Trying to make him go faster so they could catch up with the rest of the group. They were falling behind a little.

He grimaced. "Though Ranger Redmond told me to treat you well, your still a prisoner, so do not order me around."

She looked away with shrug. "Do as you please than."

The young knight kicked his horse into a trot, tugging at the rope to get Thorn to follow.

She adjusted her hands, gripping the saddle edge, positive that the little chestnut horse would not appreciate being told to hurry when he was content to plod along at the slow pace he was at.

Sure enough Thorn did exactly what he did when she was trying to tug him along. He locked his legs and dug his hooves into the ground to bring himself to a halt and for good measure he tossed his head back.

That coupled with the fact that the knights horse was trotting and he gripping the lead very hard resulted in exactly what she thought was going to happen.

The knight's arm was twisted awkwardly back, before the young man could even let out a shout of pain he was pulled right off of his saddle to land in a tangled heap in the path.

Thorn snorted in satisfaction, trotting over to a patch of grass and began to nibbled. She looked at the young man as he got to his feet, holding his sore arm. A few of the knights had stopped and turned to see what the raucous was about.

"I did tell you," she said mildly.

The young man stared at her then surprised her by throwing back her head and letting loose a laugh.

"Indeed you did."

Brushing off his dirty tunic he slowly approached, eying the little horse warily.

"What do I do to make him come?"

She shrugged again. "A treat of some sort, usually. But that does not always work either."

Eventually the two of them managed to get the little horse moving again with a bag of oats and they hurried to catch up with the delayed procession.

After that hardly a word was exchanged. Once they emerged off the bandits trail onto the road the men visibly relaxed.

They rode on for the rest of the afternoon. As the sun began to set Redmond came up beside the two young people, riding Leven's mare.

"Good work, Martin. I will take it from here."

Martin nodded and handed the lead to Redmond before riding on a head. Redmond purposley let the pace slow a little until they were trailing a few yards behind.

When they were out of ear shot he turned toward her.

"We need to talk."

"Really?" she said coolly and he sighed. "I deserve that. But Chris, if you answer my questions I will let you go. I have your things right here."

He patted a bundle behind him. "You can have them and your freedom if you tell me what I know."

She thought about it for a moment. "If I can also ask you a couple questions."

He smiled. "Seems fair. Me first though."

She sighed but nodded.

"Alright, first of all I do not want you blaming yourself for Leven's escape."

She snorted. "Too late."

"It was no your fault.".

"How so? I tied him up, I was the one who did not drug him enough. If I had he would be here right now and your friend would not be out there risking his life."

"Will can handle himself. I feel better that he is out there rather than you."

She scowled and glared at him. "If this is about that idiotic _protectivness _again, I swear I will kill you."

He frowned and brought their horses to a halt. The rest of the group continued on ahead and were soon out of sight. "Chris, is it really that bad that I am worried about you?"

"Yes," she snapped.

He sighed but let it drop. "It is all water under the bridge regardless. Just do not let your conscience get to you."

She looked at him for a moment and her expression softened. "I won't if you won't."

He gave her a startled look which she could not help smiling at.

"Alright," he said after a while.

They sat in silence for a while.

"What else did you want to talk about?"

His expression hardened a little.

"It is about your little revelation right before you ran off to deal with Leven."

She flushed and looked away. "What about it?"

"You really are a girl?" he said, sounding like he was confirming the fact rather than truly asking.

She looked around then sighed. "Yes, I am."

Again there was a long silence as he stared at her with a stunned expression. She waited for a while, and when he seemed unable to say anything, then snapped.

"Is it really that hard to believe, I am not _that _ugly."

He chuckled a little. "I was not exactly looking to see if a young boy was pretty or not."

She smiled wryly. "Cannot say I blame you."

"Why do you disguise yourself?"

"Simple. It is easier and safer. It is harder to make a living as a girl that it is for a young man. Also a girl attracts more, and often unwanted, attention."

He thought about that for a moment than nodded. "Like Leven."

She shuddered. "Yes, like Leven."

Redmond's face darkened. "I still wish you would have told me sooner."

"You would not have let me do it."

He did not respond but that was answer enough for her.

"Anything else?"

"What is your name?"

She paused for a moment. "Christiana."

He nodded.

"Alright my turn," she said promptly.

Before she could say anything else his head suddenly whipped around to stare into the trees at their right. The words she was about to utter died in her throat as she went as still as a rabbit, trying to hear or see what ever had alarmed him.

After a few moments of tense silence he motioned for her to dismount. It was awkward with her bound hands but she managed to do it. He steered the mare so it was in front of her before dismounting as well.

"Stay here," he said softly. His bow was gripped in his hands and a arrow was already fixed to the bowstring.

He walked to the edge of the road and peered into the rapidly darkening shadows as she watched with batted breath from under the neck of Leven's horse. Still, nothing happened. Finally she stepped out from behind her shield and approached him.

"What is it?"

He shook his head.

"I thought I heard something, but I guess I was wrong."

She turned her back to the trees. "I do not blame you. I keep seeing Leven in every shadow. We are just paranoid I suppose."

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Redmond's head jerk up, whatever he had heard he had seen it. Before she could turn around the ranger threw himself sideways, pushing her to the ground.

"Redmond!" she gasped, struggling to free herself.

He rolled off her, grunting in pain. That was when she saw it, the dagger embedded deep in his ribs. She stared in horror as a dark stain spread over his cloths.

"Run," he gasped, slumping to the ground.

She stumbled to her feet. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw another flash of crimson as a blade flashed toward her. She twisted to the side. She felt a searing pain on her arm as the dagger, meant for her heart, sliced her upper arm. Warm blood welled up on her arm but she hardly noticed the sting of the cut. Something large had burst from the cover of the trees, wielding a sword.

Leven.

She did not turn and run. There was no point, he would cleave her in half before she got three steps. Instead she crouched, her heart pounding in her chest. A confused mix of fear, rage and grief were storming inside her, making her ears roar and adrenaline to shoot through her body.

He swung the huge sword at her, all of his predatory grace gone, he just swung in blind rage. She leaped back to avoid the first cut and as the blade whistled by she leaped forward, ducking her shoulder and slammed into his side, sending them both toppling to the ground. Using the momentum of her fall she rolled out of the way, desperately pulling at her bound hands to try and free them. She felt the skin at her wrists tear and her hands grow slick with blood but there was no give in the strong cords.

Leven leaped to his feet first.

"I will kill you!" he howled. "I will kill you!"

As he ran forward, she swung her legs out, tripping him once again, giving her the chance to leap to her feet and run toward where she thought the second dagger had landed.

A iron hand grasped her ankle sending her sprawling. She cried out as she felt the blade slice through her lower thigh. She kicked out and felt her heel connect with his face.

He cursed and yanked at her ankle, dragging her across the ground toward him as he got to his knees. He released her ankle, lunging forward to press his knee into her stomach, knocking the wind out of her and pinning her to the ground.

She watched in horror as he raised his sword, a terrible snarl bursting from his mouth as he gripped the hilt with both hands and pointed it strait at her chest.

Compared to the last time, when he had spouted out his fancy speeches, there was no hesitation, no sign that he was going to drag it out slow and torturous. The sword would come down, plunge into her heart and she would be dead before he pulled it out.

She shut her eyes tight.

For a moment she thought she heard the pounding of hooves, but surly it was just the sound of her heart, racing toward its last beat.

She felt Leven jerk and prepared for the slice of the blade.

It did no come. Something landed on the ground beside her, metal clanging abnormally loud against the stones. His sword.

Hardly daring to do so, she opened her eyes. Leven stared down at her, his dark eyes wide and staring, mouth open in the same snarl. A trickle of blood pooled at the corner of his mouth and slid down his chin, dangling on his chin for a moment before falling through the air and splattering on her cheek.

Slowly he looked down at the thing in his chest. A long shaft of an arrow, the gray feathers gleaming in the last rays of the dying sun, protruded from his chest. His large hand came up to grasp the shaft as if to pull it out from his chest. But it was too late. Like a mighty oak being felled he toppled to the side, dead before hit the ground.

She stared into his lifeless eyes before sitting up right, head swimming to twist around and see the owner of the arrow.

The ranger still held the bow in the position it had been when he had released the lethal arrow, sitting perfectly still on his small shaggy pony.

"Will?" she choked.

He lowered the bow, meeting her wide eyed gaze.

"Chris, are you alright?"

Before he had finished speaking she staggered to her feet, running toward the still figure on the side of the road, falling to her knees beside him.

"Redmond," she gasped, grabbing his shoulder with her bound hands and rolling him unto his back. "Redmond."

For a moment there was nothing. No movement, no sign of life. Then he gasped, eyes fluttering open.

"Christiana?"

She felt tears pool in her eyes. It was the first time that anyone had called her by her real name since she ran away from home. "Yes, I'm here."

"Leven?"

"He's dead."

Redmond seemed to relax, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth. "You should be alright now. He won't bother you anymore."

She nodded numbly. "Why did you do it, Redmond? That dagger was meant for me."

For a moment he just studied her face. "Do you know why I became a ranger, Christiana?"

She shook her head.

"Because I wanted to protect as many people as I could. To help those who deserved and needed it most. And I have."

"I did not want you to protect me," she said, voice cracking.

He smiled. "I know. That is one reason why I did it."

Just then his body trembled and he grunted in pain. She watched in horror as blood bubbled into his mouth and trickled down the corners of his mouth.

Will suddenly appeared, dropping to his knees beside the other ranger, grasping his hand. She gazed at him at him, hoping against hope that he would be able to pull off another unbelievable feat and save his dying comrade. Once glance and Will shook his head in despair. The tears she had been holding back overflowed and poured down her face.

"You got that snake, Will?"

Will sighed. "Not before it bit you."

Redmond chuckled than coughed, spraying blood over the ground.

"Bound to happen, I suppose."

An urgent look came over Redmond's face and he gripped Wills hands. "Take care of Chris, Will. Promise me."

Will looked up into her tear streaked face before nodding. "I will do everything I can."

The other ranger sighed in relief. "Good...deserve better."

His voice trailed off and he was silent.

She leaned forward anxiously. "Redmond? Redmond?!"

There was no response. She touched his chest and felt nothing. He was gone.

Will sighed, reaching forward and pulling the deadly weapon from the lifeless body.

"Goodbye, my friend."

Christiana stared numbly as Will reached forward and shut staring, blind eyes. Unbidden the words of her people, the ultimate farewell rose to her lips.

"_Indora sutent dalas sen. Dendus coden._" Sleep peacefully forever more. Farewell brother.

The familiar ritual complete she lowered her head and cried as the light was sucked from the world, plunging everything into the darkness of the night.


	16. Grief

Chapter 16

Grief

Will walked through the streets of the small city. He had just finished a meeting with Captain Tomas to decide what to do with the Ravens. Some of the men would be sentenced to a couple years in prison and then set loose, the ones that, without a leader, were neither brave, smart, or motivated enough to do anything on their own. Most of them, however, would be sent to Skandia to become slaves.

Watharen, "Talon" (Brent), and a few more of the leaders he would be escorting to Castle Arulean for trial and a likely execution.

His agitated pace and solemn demeanor was a result of two things. The death of his friend and comrade, and the promise had had made him.

Chris, as well as Watharen and the other leaders, were imprisoned inside the keep, under guard. The boy had not uttered a word since the knights had arrived and taken away Redmond's body to be buried the next day. The tears had stopped but the boy looked like he was about to shatter into a million pieces.

Will looked up at the stars shining in the night.

_What did you want me to do, Redmond? What did you say to him right before you died? What is he expecting or hoping? How am I to help this boy?_

Still with no answer he headed toward the keep, thinking it was time to pay the young boy a visit. The guards let him by with a word.

The prison was simple. A large room with crisscrossing iron cells lined up on either side. The four wall were solid stone. The gaps in the bars were meant to that the guards would always see what the prisoners were doing.

He glanced into Watharen's cell. Heavy chains weighed down the man's feet and were embedded into the wall and his hands were manacled though the chain attaching the restraints was long enough to allow him some movement. He glared at the ranger but said nothing, only watched as Will moved out sight and to the next cell down.

It took a moment for Will to find the boy in the deep shadows of the cell. Chris was not chained, and no longer tied. But he might as well have been. He had not moved since he had been put into the cell. He sat in a corner with his knees tucked up, his wrists resting on his knees and stared with lifeless eyes at the stone wall across from him. The plate of food, a hard biscuit with some cheese and some simple vegetables was left untouched, as was the tin cup of water that had been slid through the bars.

Will motioned for the guard to come over and unlock the door. The burly man complied, shutting it behind the ranger once he was inside.

Even when Will approached, Chris did not look up, giving no sign that he even knew that Will was there.

Will sighed and crouched down beside the boy.

"Chris."

The shadowed eyes blinked and slowly, stiffly, he turned his head to look at the ranger. Still, there was no change of expression. Just the same, empty look.

Will looked at him for a moment. "How are you feeling?"

There was no answer. It was sort of a stupid question anyway.

"I had no idea the two of you were so close," he said softly.

Chris looked away, but he finally spoke, voice horse and strained as if he were forcing the words past a lump in his throat. For a moment Will was struck by the boy's peculiar accent, a soft, lilting accent that seemed to make his voice soothing and intense at the same time.

"It was just the two of us in a place we did not want to be, both prisoners even though Redmond was the one with the chains. We had no one but each other."

"I know how that feels."

Again the hollows eyes turned to him. Will smiled, glad he caught the boys interest and settled against the wall beside him.

"I was captured by Skandian's, me and a girl named Evelyn, and taken to their homeland to be slaves. For nearly a year it was just us two and we had no one to rely on but each other. Situations like that you cannot help becoming friends."

Chris nodded and Will gave him a sidelong look. "Redmond became very fond of you. I think you reminded him of his little brother."

The boy's head snapped around and he stared at Will. "He had a brother?"

Will nodded. "A little brother quite a bit younger than he was, as a matter of fact. A few years after Redmond became a full ranger he took his brother on as an apprentice as the age of thirteen."

"It seemed like the two of them would quickly become one of the best Ranger teams in history. They worked flawlessly together and their minds worked so much alike that the other could tell what the other was planning without needing to speak it. It was amazing to watch them complete a task together."

For a moment he stared off into space, remembering some long ago memory. He shook his head to bring himself back to the present.

"The two of them were sent on a mission. Something went wrong doing it. Their informant, a young woman, tricked Redmond's brother and led him into an ambush. Redmond got there in time to kill or capture the ones responsible but his brother was killed."

Chris remained silent for a long time.

"So that is why he was so set on protecting me," he said softly to himself.

Will nodded. "It had a lot to do with it, that is for sure."

For a long moment the boy was silent. "Fool," he suddenly cursed.

Will looked at him, startled to see the boys eyes blazing with anger.

"What do you mean by that?"

Chris got to his feet and started pacing up and down the cells length, his strides, quick and angry.

"I told him I did not want it; his protection, his loyalty. I told him time and time again and yet would he listen, would that idiot listen!?" he growled, voice growing louder with each word. "No! He persisted, and now look what good it has done for him. He's dead. He died for nothing! NOTHING!"

He whirled and slammed his fists against the wall in helpless rage and frustration.

Will quickly waved away the guard who had rushed to the door and the man backed away. Will leaped forward as the boy pulled back his fists to slam them against the wall again, catching his wrist and pulling him away. He froze, surprised when his hands contacted, warm sticky liquid and look down to see a dark stain spread over the bottom of the boys sleeve and a mix of old and fresh blood smeared on the back of his hands.

"Are you hurt?"

The boy glared at him with shining eyes.

"Let go."

Instead Will grasped his forearm, pulling back the sleeve. On the thin, bony wrist where the ropes had been earlier the skin was torn and bloody, caked with dried blood and dirt.

"How did you do this?"

Chris stared at him than with a exasperated snarl he ripped himself free from Will's grasp.

"What is it with you Ranger," he snarled, eyes bright with unshed tears, "and caring about things you should not? You are the officials of your king, you are not supposed to show favor to enemies."

"Is that what you think you are, an enemy of this kingdom?"

He shook his head. "Does it matter? I am a foreigner caught in the dealings of villains. You do not have to coddle and sugar coat if for me, Ranger. I know the penalties for such crimes. _Dusnsen tar._"

Will decided to refrain, for now, of asking what that meant.

"And what are the penalties?" he said coolly.

The couple of the tears that the boy had been holding back escaped and slid down his dirt smeared face.

"An execution, if you are lucky. Do you not know the ways of kings and rulers, Ranger?"

With that he turned away and sat down on the thin wood cot, his head turned away. "Go away. I have had enough with you Rangers."

The ranger sighed and turned to leave, pausing at the door to let the guard open it. As he waited he looked down at the plate of untouched food.

"Eat something. We have a long trip tomorrow."

There was no response from the thin figure on the cot except for him to bury his head into the curve of his elbows, gripping fistfuls of his hair in his fists.

As Will walked back up the stairs to the upper layers of the keep he pondered what he had heard.

_Exactly what sort of country did he come from? _He thought to himself.

_The Next Morning_

The next morning Will descended the stairs once again, heart heavy. He was about to go oversee the burial of Redmond's body and he was going to let Chris come. Just ahead of him, a servant was carrying the trays with the prisoner's meals. Again it was relatively simple, a biscuit, an apple, and a bowl of plain porridge.

He carried Chris's plate right into the cell while the servant collected the plate from the night before. Once again, he noticed it had been untouched and the cup was still full of water.

Chris sat on his cot, looking up at the small, barred window on the wall of his cell. He glanced at Will when he set the plate down on the ground in front of him but he said nothing.

Will sat down beside him, reaching into a pouch tied to the belt around his waist. He pulled out a couple rags, bandages and some salve. Instantly the boy knew what he was up to and snatched his wrists away when Will reached for them.

"Do not be stupid Chris. If you allow them to continue like this they will get infected."

"So?" was the lifeless reply.

Will glared. Faster than a diving hawk he grabbed Chris's forearm, and yanked him around, dropping the materials into his lap.

"Stop sulking like a child. Self-pity is not very becoming."

Those green eyes narrowed into a glare. "I am _not_ feeling sorry for myself. On the contrary, I am one of the last things on my mind."

"Oh, and you think that Redmond would approve of you neglecting yourself because he is dead? You said yesterday that he died for nothing when he really died for _you_. What you are doing is a poor way to repay him."

The boy flinched as if Will has struck him, looking away.

"It does not matter," he finally whispered. "I will be dead once we reach your capitol, regardless."

Will sighed in exasperation. Once again he grabbed his arm and turned him around. Pouring some of the water onto one of the clean rags he began to clean away the dried blood, tightening his grip on the thin wrist when he tried to pull away.

"Look, Chris. I do not know what kind of country you came from, but I can tell you right now that Arulean is not anything like it. I seriously doubt that you will be killed."

"And you rule your king, do you?" the boy said bitterly.

"Of course not. But I do know him, better than some. My mentor was a very close adviser and friend to him. I also have very close connections to the crown. I can promise you that our king is not a dictator, and that he will give you a fair trial," Will explained as he continued to clean the boy's wrist, soaking the dried blood in water to let it soften before rubbing it off. Though it must have stung, Chris hardly reacted. The muscles in his arm and hand tightened but that was it.

The anger and bitterness had faded a little from Chris's eyes, though the doubt was still there.

"What sort of trial can I have. The only man who could defend me is d-dead," he said, voice breaking a little.

"There is me. Redmond told me a little about what the two of you went through after we captured Watharen. Also, I was observing the camp for several days as well. What I have to say will not go unnoticed, neither will the fact that you are little more than a child."

The boy stiffened. "Why should that make a difference?"

Will sighed, just finishing cleaning off the wound he was working on. "You seem very mature and skilled, but you are still very young. In is no surprise that Watharen was able to manipulate you. Even if you had done everything willingly, King Duncan would still be reluctant to give you a harsh sentence."

For a long time, Chris was silent, watching as Will's nimble fingers washed away the blood.

"What kind of sentence can I expect then?" he said softly.

"At worst, a short time in prison. Or banishment from out kingdom. But that it in the worst case. Most likely, the king will just let you go."

The boys brow farrowed in confusion.

"If you are right," he said, "your kingdom is indeed _very _different from mine own."

"Your does not sound very pleasant," Will admitted. "Where did you come from, anyway?"

For a moment it looked as if he would refuse to answer. "Elendor.."

"Never heard of it."

"I am not surprised, there is very little contact between our two kingdoms, just the occasional explorer or adventurous trader."

Will nodded. He finished cleaning and applied the salve. Chris grimaced a little when the salve touched his raw, tattered flesh but he did not flinch. Will skillfully wrapped them before finally letting go.

"I will ask you more about your story later as we travel to the capitol. I need to know your story before you stand before King Duncan."

There was visible reluctance in Chris's eyes.

"Much of your past you have every right to keep to yourself," Will said. "But everything to do wither Watharen and your arrival here I must know. They might be vitally important."

Slowly Chris nodded.

"Now," Will said, nodding toward the food, "Eat up. Everything is ready to go and while Captain Tomas is overseeing Watharen containment during our journey, we will oversee Redmond's burial."

The spark that Will had begun to see in Chris face instantly dimmed as his mind was directed back to his grief. But nevertheless, he nodded.

"But only if you eat your food," Will added.

Without further arguing, Chris picked up his plate and began to eat. For the first few bites it looked as if he would choke but he managed to get through the meal.

When he was finished Will escorted him out of the cell and up the stairs. The guards offered to come along but he waved them aside. He no longer thought Chris would try and run or do anything foolish out of grief or desperation.

_He's a good boy, _Will admitted to himself, finally agreeing with Redmond. _He will bear some watching, but I do not think he is a danger to anyone._

**Things have calmed down considerably, haven't they? Keep reading and please tell me what you think.**


	17. Sailing

**Sorry this one has taken so long. Been busy, busy, busy. It considerably long though so I hope it will appease you a little and not bore you. Hope you like it.**

Chapter 17

Sailing

Christiana tried to tune out the sound of the shovelfuls of dirt hitting the sheet wrapped body. Though it was a dull, hollow sound, it seemed to penetrate into the deepest reaches of her mind, making her want to curl up into a ball and stay there.

A gentle hand on her shoulder made her look up into Will's sad eyes.

"Let's go. Captain Thomas will be waiting."

She nodded, brushing away the remainder of her tears. That was it. No more crying, no more tears. No amount of them would bring him back anyway. It had not brought Airic back, or the shipmates she had lost at sea. There was little point in lingering on a grief, that, if she let it, would cripple her.

As they silently walked back to the keep she pondered what Will had told her just that morning. So overcome had she been with Redmond's death that she had not given much thought about anything. She had been so sure she would be executed, had excepted it as inevitable.

_What will I do if the king does let me go? I have no where to go, no one to go to. _

She sighed and shook herself mentally. It was not as if she had not been in those sort of situations before. She would survive until she could find another occupation, a honest one, hopefully one that would teach her something new so it would be a little more interesting.

For a moment her eye drifted over to the Ranger walking beside her.

_I wonder what it would be like to be a Ranger? _She thought idly, then again shook herself to stop her thoughts in their tracks. From what she heard the Rangers were a very important group of people in this Kingdom. Not as prominent and rich as nobles, or as well recognized as knights, but certainly important. There was no way that they would let a foreigner into such a group, especially one with a background like her own.

So she put the thoughts away. Just as with Redmond's death, it did her no good to linger on such thoughts. They would come to nothing.

As they entered the courtyard of the keep she looked up at the sound of chains. Watharen was being loaded onto a cart along with Brent, while the rest of the Raven leaders that would be going back to the capitol were being tied to horses. Thorn was saddled and waiting for her along with her few belongings, except her weapons of course, tied behind his saddle.

As she opened the pack to check that everything was there she found her necklace and for a moment lifted it, letting it spin. The small emblem flashed in the light of the rising sun, the silver chain shimmered almost hypnotically. As she gazed at the royal symbol her heart ached. She had wanted to tell Redmond about her past, to let the burden of the secret ease a little by telling it to friendly, understanding ears. Just as she had done with the secret of her gender. Now she was once again burdened under both secrets. Somehow, they seemed even heavier than before.

With a sigh she dropped the chain back inside and firmly shut the pack. Walking to Thorn's head she patted his neck and handed him that apple that had been with the meal that Will had brought her that morning. She had not been unable to force herself to eat it and it seemed a waste choke it down when the shaggy pony would enjoy it far more.

Will was currently checking the packs of his own horse. As she waited to be told what it was she should do she examined his animal. Like Thorn he was small and shaggy, with a barrel shaped torso. As she watched he rolled his eyes towards her as if to say _What are you looking at?_

For a moment she stared into the dark intelligent eyes before looking away at a very similar pony standing beside him. This pony too was short, barrel shaped and shaggy. They were clearly from the same breed. On impulse she walked forward and stroked it's muzzle.

"That is Redmond's horse," Will said as he adjusted his pack. "Her name is Scout."

She nodded. The horse gazed at her for a moment, but not for long. Every time someone would come or go from the courtyard, Scout would whip her head around, nostrils flared, ears pricked.

Sympathy welled inside her as she realized what Scout was doing. She was waiting her her master to come and get her. To pat her, maybe give her an apple before getting on to ride back home. A lump formed in Christiana's throat, threatening to choke her. Unbidden tears welled in her eyes.

_So much for no more tears, _she thought sarcastically to herself. Unable to help herself she threw her arms around the horse's neck and buried her face into her mane.

"He isn't coming back, girl," she whispered softly. "I am sorry. I miss him too."

The horse nickered and Christiana felt Scout's head press against her back for a moment.

For a moment, neither the young girl, or the mare moved. Christiana was the first to pull away, patting the horses neck.

"Where was she?" she asked softly, hoping her voice would not break.

"She was in the village that you and Leven found Redmond in, staying in the stables of the inn there."

She nodded. "What will happen to her now?"

Will shrugged helplessly. "I will take her to an old acquaintance. That is where she originally came from. She will stay there until she is needed again."

With another nod Chris patted the horses neck one more time before walking over to Thorn who had been watching with a covetous glint in his eyes.

"Be nice," she told him softly. "She just lost her rider."

He snorted and butted her shoulder hard enough to make her stagger.

"Not that you would feel anything if I keeled over," she muttered under her breath.

He only tossed his head and looked away.

Will approached her a few minutes later.

"We are about to go. During the trip I do not want you to leave my side. Understood?"

"Yes," she relied, hardly blaming him for wanting to keep an eye on her, since she was the prisoner that he was giving the most freedom.

"Martin will be watching you too," he added, gesturing toward one of the mounted knights.

She looked over to see the same young man that had ridden beside her before.

He saw them looking and nodded.

"Alright."

"Now I do not want you to think it is because I do not trust you, it is partly for your protection."

She stared, not really having the energy to give him a baffled look, but he understood anyway.

"Leven came back to kill you," he reminded her. "A few of the Raven's escaped the other night and they might harbor similar thoughts."

She turned away. "I really do not think they will. Leven had a personal grudge against me, for several reasons." _And because of that Redmond was killed_, she added to herself bitterly.

"Maybe, but regardless."

Shaking her head, baffled that yet another Ranger was concerned for her safety she mounted Thorn. "It must be because of Redmond,"she said quietly to the horse, "he does not want his sacrifice to go to waste"

That was the only reasonable solution that she could think of to explain Will's behavior. But then again, her mind was not in the best condition right now.

She gently nudged Thorn in the side, asking rather than ordering him to move forward next to Will's horse as the Ranger went to the head of the small column. There were ten soldiers, including Captain Thomas and Martin. That, plus the prisoners, herself and Will made seventeen in all.

_A regular parade, _she thought dryly.

As she passed by the wagon where Watharen was imprisoned she felt a chill rush up her spine, even though the gaze that was boring a hole in her head felt searing hot. She did not turn to meet the murderous gaze of the former bandit leader but she could still feel it as she went past.

As she drew along side Will, she noticed that Scout was following the ranger with no lead and no other urgings. She just stayed a few steps behind at all times.

"Captain Thomas, is everything ready?" Will called out.

"Hold your horses, Will Treaty," the burly man snapped.

Will grinned, gesturing at Scout. "Have no need to." Causing Captain Thomas to curse.

"Are all ranger horses trained to do that?" she asked when he sat back in his saddle to wait, nodding toward Scout.

"Among other things," Will answered vaguely.

She did not press for further details as they waited for the men to get the prisoner's organized, give out the normal threats about escape and so on and line up to march out of the gate.

Thomas finally nodded to the Ranger and Will wheeled his horse around.

"Let us be on our way."

With little urging from her, Thorn followed, seeming to want to show her that he could do anything that Scout could. Her mouth twitch into the smallest of smiles.

"Jealous mule," she muttered to him.

They rode out of the town surrounding the village and onto the country road. The knights remained alert but they still talked among themselves. Absently she listened to their conversation for a while as Will rode up and down the line to make sure everything was in order before coming to ride beside her.

"Alright Chris," he said in a very business like tone. "Now I'm going to ask you some questions and I want you to answer honestly."

She tilted her head in acknowledgment. "Fair enough, I suppose."

He did not waste time. "You say you come from Elendor."

She nodded.

"And that there is very little contact between there and here?"

Again she nodded.

"Then how did you get here?"

For a moment she did not answer but he did not try and press her. She was just gathering her thoughts.

"I became a cabins boy on a merchant ship. The captain, Captain Tarnek, was a man from the country that my country had regular dealings with."

"Why did he hire you? Seems to me that your skills are more suited to a hunter or a scout."

"I was not trained to be either. I was trained to survive," she murmured.

His face darkened at the gravity in her voice but he motioned for her to continued.

"I met Captain Tarnek because I was at the harbor during market day. There were a lot of merchants there and I would do whatever small task I could find to get a few coins and tying off Captain Tarnek's boat when they came in was one of them."

Christiana looked down the road, no longer seeing it. She was thousands of miles away, back bustling, loud and smelly docks during market day. Hearing the cry of sea gulls, smelling the tang of salt and feel the rickety board under her worn boots.

_Two Years Ago_

_Christiana heard the small waves lapping under her as she trotted down the rough, wood planks of the dock, wrinkling her nose slightly against the smell of rotting fish. The gulls swept over head, piercing the air with the sharp, cries, just waiting for the opportunity to sweep down and steal a fish or crab._

_The crate in her hands was heavy and the splinters of the planks dug into her palms but she did not mind. Her hands were becoming tough. They were no longer the soft, delicate hands that came from living in a palace. They were the hands of a survivor and carrying this crate would give her a few extra coins to survive with._

_As two knights passed by her, their chain mail rattling with each step, she automatically turned her face away, pretending interest in a gull that had landed on the pier. It was just a precaution, she doubted that anyone would recognized her. Her parents had put up posters and had men out looking for her but the picture depict a willowy girl, with long, waving dark hair that fell past her waist, large eyes, her head held high and proud and a silver tiara on her head._

_Christiana no longer looked at all like the princess that the knights were looking for. Her hair was chopped short and uneven close to her skull. Her own handy work with her hunting knife. It had lost its luster and was dull from washings with the simple, homemade soup she bought rather than the oils and ointments of the palace. Her skin no longer shone but was dark from days out doors. Her small chest was hidden under shabby, ill fitting cloths. She no longer looked like a girl, much less a princess and the only identifying thing she had, her necklace, was hidden deep in her pouch._

_She still was not sure why she had taken it with her. Though it was almost priceless it meant almost nothing to her. The dagger she had in her belt, the sling she had around her waist and the bow in her hands were of far more value to her. They were the tools to her survival and she had been taught how to use them by the dearest person in the world to her._

_Maybe she would sell it eventually, when there was a need though she was unsure if she could. And she knew why. As much as she had disliked her palace life it was a part of her and she was reluctant to give up that small token that was the only thing linking her to it._

_Shaking her head to clear it she continued down the dock until she stepped off the dock and headed down the cobblestone path into town. When she reached the square she place the crate down along with the many other she had already carried._

_"Is that all of them?" the trader snapped. He spoke the flowing language of her native tongue but his rough accent told anyone that it was not his own._

_She nodded. "Yes, sir."_

_He eyed the crates, as if to make sure they were not damaged. Finally he reached into his pouch and pulled out a few coins._

_"Here you are then."_

_She took the money, counting it in her palm ignoring the familiar outlines of some of her siblings imprinted on the coins, thanked the man and went off to find something else to do. The rainy season was on it's way and she needed enough money to get the supplies she needed before it came in. She was sure she would have enough by the end of the day._

_It was market day here in this city by the sea and the merchants were coming in to sell their wares. There were plenty of little jobs to do here and there. Carry things, chase seagulls away from fish until the tarps were put down, tying off boats, or running messages. Of course things really would not start to boom until Rocen Day next week. The day that would celebrate the birth of Rocen, the crown prince, and her older brother._

_But she did not intend to be anywhere near here, or any city at that time. During that week the royal family, as well as most of the royal court, would travel over the country, visiting every large city and province. There the aristocrats would compete one with another to throw the biggest party for the young prince._

_Though it was unlikely she would be spotted in the mass of people that would be there for the holiday, she was taking no chances. She would go inland and camp out in the mountains for the week until things had calmed down some more._

_"Oy, boy, tie this off will you."_

_She looked up, not at all surprised that her feet had carried her back the docks which she had been thinking._

_Automatically she caught the rope that was tossed to her, looping it around one of the posts and expertly tied it tight._

_"Nice knot, good an' tight," a rough voice said._

_A man stepped onto the dock from the little boat she had just tied. Swiftly she evaluated him. His accent clearly marked him as a Tarshdian, a member of the country that lay around the Great Peninsula and over the Locaod Sea. His loose shirt, pants and shin high boots said he was a sea man and the dark maroon coat told her she was a captain._

_But the face told her far more. It was hard to tell how old he was because his face was lined from constant exposure to the elements. But she would guess not anywhere between thirty and forty. He had pitch black hair, eyes that were just as dark and a broad bearded face that would have been rather fearsome if it were not for the approving smile on his face and the sparkle of fun in his eyes._

_She liked him almost instantly._

_"Thank you, sir," she said promptly. "I had a good teacher."_

_"Indeed. Here ya go, ma thanks."_

_He tossed her a coin. For the first time she noticed a boy when he scurried after him. He looked about her own age, about twelve, with hair so red it looked like it was on fire and so many freckles that it was hard to tell where he was freckled or where he was tan._

_For a moment their eyes met, sky blue and emerald green._

_"Samson, come on," the man said._

_Samson jumped and hurried after his captain. She watched them go. The captain threw a warm arm around the boys shoulders and started to point various things out to him._

_A familiar ache grew in her chest, a longing for companionship, closeness to another human._

_She gritted her teeth and turned away to thing something else to do._

_"Who needs companions," she mumbled under her breath, "I am doing fine on my own."_

_Still, the ache did not leave and she felt restless and troubled for the rest of the day._

_.*._

_.*.*.*._

_The cool night air felt good against her skin. She was sure she was a little sunburned from the long day under the hot sun. But it had been worth it. She had almost enough money to buy her supplies, one more day and she would have enough to get what she needed with some left over. She was saving her money to buy a horse. Even a pony would do. Once she had one she could buy some more supplies, and one day travel through the mountain passes into one of the neighboring kingdoms and finally leave this one behind._

_A horse would make a good companion as well and hopefully fill the hole where the remains of her heart throbbed, even if just a little._

_She was not sure what first made her aware that something was wrong. It might have been a soft noise, carried on the light breeze. It might have been the disturbed ground, covered with footsteps that looked rushed and hurried. Or it might have just been a feeling. But she stopped where she stood looking around._

_The footsteps on the ground where not easy to read because they were so haphazard but she could make out several larger footsteps and a set of smaller ones._

_Her eyes narrowed as she tried to make the marked ground reveal what had happened. Airic had been able to look at a person or animals foot prints and tell it's weight, usually whether it was male or female and whether they were in a hurry or hunting._

_She only know the basics. There seemed to be three sets of larger footprints, so most likely men. And other, smaller ones. The larger and smaller ones came from different directions and once they met there was a jumbled mass before all footprints ran off down a darkened lane._

_Curious, and a little apprehensive she followed them._

_She heard the pained cry and the rough laughter before she saw them. Turning a corner she stopped in her tracks at the scene in front of her._

_She had been off, of course. There were not three, but five men. Young men. By their shoulder length, uniform cut hair she could tell they were young knights. Just barely out of their academy days. They were drunk, their movements clumsy and uncoordinated. Some of them even had kegs in their hands._

_One of them kicked out at something on the ground, another cry of pain drawing her eyes down. A young boy lay crumpled at their feet. As she watched he tried to stand only to have one of the boys grip him in a head lock._

_"Dirty sea rat. We'll teach you to go against the orders of full knights of Elendor," the largest of the young men snapped, his words slurred and hardly understandable._

_His fist slammed into the small boys stomach, then came up into his face when he cried out._

_Her hands instantly moved on her own. She did not have her bow, and she did not want to use her dagger. But she did have her sling._

_Unwinding the long, supple leather tie from her waist she crouched, scooped up some pebbles and put two in the pouch. She whirled it three times, building up momentum. The big bully heard the dull thrum of the leather cutting through the air and the whistle of the stones, but he only saw a flash of movement out of the corner of his eyes before they slammed into his arm and stomach in quick succession._

_He staggered back, clutching his smarting limbs, and cursed to high heaven._

_His friends gaped at him, looking around in bewilderment. They did not see the small figure standing in the shadows till four more stones sped from the darkness._

_Christiana laughed as they flailed around, trying to locate their attacker, clutching their smarting limbs. The smaller boy had been dropped, completely forgotten._

_"There he is," one of the leader, pointing at her._

_She waved. "I think I need a lesson in obedience I suppose, would you come and teach me."_

_Their only answer was to roar and run at her. She turned and ran away, barreling around the corner to go deeper into the city. She let them chase her for a good ten minutes, staying just far enough ahead of them to stop them from giving up but not close enough that they could catch her._

_When she thought she had led them far enough away she sped up the pace, slowly lengthening the distance between them. Racing around one more corner she found what she was looking for. The city stables. She slowed for a moment, yanking a length of thin rope from her belt and her hand flew as she tied a swift loop.. She waited until they had barreled around the corner and had seen her before ducking behind the stables as if to hide._

_The moment she was out of sight she skidded to a stop, grimacing at the foul smell that emanated from the shadows just ahead. Throwing the loop around one of the tying posts, letting it settle low to the ground before diving behind a barrel on the opposite side of the alley, clutching the rope tight in her fist._

_The boys came skidding around the corner. They only ran a few steps forward before two things happened. They let out disgusted grunts as the rank smell hit them, then shouts as there legs were suddenly entangled and all of them were sent flying forward, face first into the enormous pile of green and brown manure. The entire weeks supply of extract from the horses, mules, donkeys and other live stock that were put in the stables._

_She snickered as the boys flailed around, only making things worse as they splatter each other with the brown goop and pushed each other in to try and get themselves in._

_Cutting her rope free she sped off, still smirking as the curses faded behind her._

_In a few minutes she was back in the same alley where she first saw them. The smaller boy had barely moved. He had managed to crawl over to one of the walls and sat against it, gasping and holding his leg close to his body. He looked up startled when she appeared in front of him._

_"Where are you hurt?" she asked as she knelt down in front of him._

_He stared at her for a moment then his eyes widened._

_"Ya the one 'o led them off," his accent was the same as the captain's she had met earlier._

_She peered closer and raised her eyebrows. Yes, his hair was red. He was the same boy that she had seen at the docks with the dark eyed captain._

_"Yes. Were are you hurt?" she repeated._

_After a moments hesitation he pointed at his right leg._

_"I twisted ma ankle while trying ta run. That is 'ow they caught me."_

_She nodded and pulled out bandages from her pouch. It would mean she would have to buy more later but she shrugged that thought aside as she carefully examined his leg before binding it tight. He watched her in silence._

_"What did they want with you anyway?"_

_He shrugged. "I have no idea. I was just getting some things from the blacksmith for Cap and they got mad when I bumped into them on the way back."_

_She looked around and sure enough cold she a wrapped bundle a couple feet away._

_"Sorry that you were subjected to such rudeness."_

_He snorted. "Seems like most Elendornians are like that."_

_She scowled. "I take it that you have mostly been dealing with knights or nobles."_

_"Well, yes."_

_"The regular citizens are no worse or no better than ones in your country," she said firmly. "Do not judge the country because of a few of them."_

_She finished tending to his leg and stood, brushing her hands together._

_"Your other injuries will have to be tended to later. Do you want me to take you to the docks or are the rest of your crew staying somewhere else?"_

_He looked up in surprise. "How do you know that I am part of a crew."_

_"Your clothing, for one thing," she said, waving a hand at his apparel, "and I saw you earlier today with your captain at the docks."_

_For a long moment he was silent as he studied her face. "Your that boy who helped tie our boat up."_

_She nodded, heaving him to his feet, cringing when he groaned. No doubt the punches that he had taken where aching something terrible._

_"Yes, so where do you want to go."_

_He pulled away. "Thanks, but I can get there myself."_

_No sooner had he taken a step toward his fallen back that his leg gave out. She just managed to catch him and keep him upright._

_"Sure you can," she said sarcastically. Taking his wrist she dragged it over her shoulders. "Come on, I'll take you where ever you need to go."_

_For a moment it looked like he was going to argue but she glowered at him and he fell silent._

_"I need my pack."_

_After quick deliberation she helped him over to a wall where he could hold himself up before hurrying over to gather his things and sling the package over her shoulder. Then she went back over to him._

_"Where do you want to go?" she said as she once again drew his arms around her shoulder._

_"The Seagull, an inn near the docks."_

_She nodded. She knew that inn. It was small but homey and she had already done a few small jobs there._

_They began to long trip there._

_He wasn't really heavy but he did outweighed her by quiet a bit and she struggled under his weight. It only became harder when the shock and adrenaline faded from his system and the pain hit him. It was harder for him to move his leg at all without him groaning in pain and his many bruises and cuts from the beating where just as painful._

_By the time they reached the inn, they were both staggering, gasping and exhausted. Samson was as the point of passing out._

_"Samson," a deep, rough voice said, a familiar one._

_She looked up to see the Captain from earlier that day. His eyes were wide with concern when he took the two of them them in._

_"Wha' happened?" he demanded as he scooped Samson into his arms who instantly went out cold._

_"Careful, he's hurt," Christiana cautioned, though relieved to be rid of the burden. "He's taken quiet a beating."_

_The captain's eyes, which had been so kind and warm earlier held nothing of the sort now. In the light cast by the lamps of the nearby buildings his eyes seemed to blaze with anger._

_"Who did this?"_

_"A group of knights," Samson said._

_"He can explain later," she quickly said when she saw the captain was opening his mouth for another question. "Right now he needs a healer. I've bandaged his leg but he has some open cuts and bruises that need tending."_

_Instantly the concern was back and the captain turned to walk away, hurrying toward the door of the inn._

_As she herself turned to leave he stopped and called over his shoulder._

_"Come 'ere, boy," he commanded. "I want ta here more about this."_

_She sighed but followed him into the inn._

_Some of the patrons in the commons room looked around curiously when they entered. Several men instantly leaped to their feet when they saw the tired and beaten Samson in the big man's arms. She guessed they were Samson's shipmates._

_"What happened Captain? What's wrong with Samson?"_

_"He's 'urt," the captain said bluntly. "Denor, find a healer and bring 'em back here as quickly as ya can."_

_One of the men nodded and rushed out. The captain hurried up the stairs to the bedrooms above. Christiana hesitated, debating whether just to slip away. But another look from the captain made her hurry up the stairs after him._

_At the top of the stairs a low beamed hallway stretched in both direction with doors on either side. She followed him to the right and into a door near the end of the hall. The captain had to duck to enter go through the door. Carefully he arranged the boy on the bed there. A lantern hung from the ceiling revealing the simple room. Beside the bed there was a wash table with a mirror and basin along with several fresh wash cloths. There was a small table where the occupants could eat._

_The captain grabbed one of the chairs around the table, dragging it over beside the bed before turning to her._

_"So boy. Wha' happened?"_

_"He had a run in with a group of young knights that were drunk," she explained. "When he tried to run he twisted his ankle so they caught him and beat him a little."_

_He examined her from under his thick black brows. "How did you happen to be there?"_

_She shrugged. "I was heading...um...back to my place when I saw their footprints and went to investigate."_

_"And ya saw wha' they did?"_

_"Yes."_

_"And ya helped 'im?"_

_"Yes," she said simply. Briefly she summarized how she had led the young knight off and to the stables. She flushed a little when he chuckled a little at the story but he did not interrupt as she finished her story._

_"Seems I owe ya," he said, leaning back in his chair._

_She shook her head. "Not at all. I was happy to help."_

_He studied her for another long moment from under his dark, thick eyebrows._

_"Wha' ya name, boy?"_

_"Chris."_

_He nodded, smiling warmly. "Ya a good boy Chris. Thank you."_

_She flushed again and looked away, embarrassed and a little ashamed. I am not a good boy. I am not even a good girl._

_"Your welcome, sir," she murmured to her feet. "I really must be on my way."_

_"I won't be 'ere more en a few days. But if there is anything I 'an do for ya, let ma know."_

_She thought for a moment. "Well, if you have any jobs I can do for you while your here I would I would be happy to do so."_

_He raised an eyebrow. "Ya need one?"_

_"Yes."_

_He tapped his huge fingers against his bearded chin. "Well, since Samson will not be running about anytime soon, there will be a few things ya 'an do for me. Mostly carrying messages and fetching packages."_

_"Sounds excellent," she said._

_He held out his hand. "Alright then. Ya come by 'ere every morning for the next few days and you 'ave got yaself a job."_

_She smiled, reaching forward. They shook hands. Or rather he grabbed half her forearm in his huge hand and pumped her entire arm up and down._

_"Thank you."_

_She turned away after that. As she went down the stairs she passed the sailor that the Captain had scent after the healer. A old, wizened man followed him._

_…_

_"Do ya know 'ow things are run 'ere pretty good, Chris," the captain said._

_She looked up. They were both walking down the main street in town. Her carrying a package for him as they went on an errand._

_"A bit," she hedged, wondering what he was getting at._

_It was the morning after she had helped Samson and this was the third such of an errand. For the most part the captain, who was named Tarnek, went about either arranging supplies for his ship, or securing bids for the goods he had on his ship or would have next time he came through._

_"O do I talk ta about the young knights o 'urt Samson?"_

_She grimaced. "No one. No one who will listen to you anyway. The baron of this city will not care and the captain in charge of them will not either."_

_He scowled. "Bloody place hasn't changed much, 'as it?"_

_She shrugged helplessly. "How long has it been since you have been here last?"_

_"Five years, I was sailing under another cap'ain."_

_"The same king was in charge ten years ago," she pointed out._

_He huffed and stormed on. She hurried to catch up, the familiar sickening feeling churning in her stomach. It was the same feeling she had every time she saw the citizens of her country suffering under her fathers rule. Though Airic had told her over and over again that it was not her fault she could not help feeling saddened, guilty, and ashamed. There was nothing she could do about it but she could still not help but feel that by being a member of the royal family she was somehow responsible._

_Shaking her head to try and rid herself of such thoughts she concentrated on the task at hand._

_…_

_"Chris, where are ya parents? Seems that they would be worried, wha' with ya running around with me all the time," Tarnek said._

_She shrugged, looking down at her plate of food. It was the fourth day after her helping Samson and Captain Tarnek had once again insisted on buying her dinner at the inn. Sometimes the crew joined them and a still sour Samson. They were a surprisingly entertaining group of people. Always making jokes and poking fun at each other. Though she had been quiet and reserved they had pulled her into the conversations with tales of the places they had been and adventures they had had on the wide open sea._

_Now, however, they were eating on their own. The rest of the crew out at the square where a dance was taking place. It was a sort of pre-party that the nobles held to get the towns folk happy so that when the royal family came by in the following week they could have the towns people working hard on the preparations under a heavy put on obligation. She hated the event, knowing what it was so she avoided it._

_"They do not mind."_

_She was so busy looking busy that it took her a moment to realize that he was studying her again. She hated how his black eyes seem to see right through her. She had faced down hundreds of nobles and not one of them had the ability to pierce a emotional mask like Captain Tarnek did._

_"Chris," he said softly._

_Reluctantly she looked up into his eyes._

_"Do ya have parents?"_

_"Of course."_

_"That are still alive?" he said._

_"Yes."_

_He examined her for a moment. Then leaned back in his chair, tapping his chin. She knew this meant that he was thinking really hard._

_"Do they live 'ere in town with ya?"_

_She hesitated just a second, trying to figure out what he was trying to worm out of her. She did not like lying to him either._

_"Yes."_

_He smiled. "I would like ta meet 'em. They must be fine folks indeed ta raise such a young'in."_

_She flushed. Deciding not to answer that one._

_"Are ya parents good people."_

_She looked up at him, forcing an inquisitive look on her face. "Of course. Why would you think other wise?"_

_"Well for one, ya do not seem very happy. For another, all the people us'in 'ave talked ta do not seem to know who ya are, so yar not a local. For another one of ma men saw you coming into town early in the morning from the road. And lastly you never talk about them."_

_She gaped at him openly while inwardly cursing to herself. He was a sea captain but he was sharp enough to be a scholar or battle tactician._

_She did not answer. Instead she shoveled the rest of her food into her mouth and washed it down with her milk. She stood pushing away her plate._

_"Captain Tarnek I have got to be going. Thanks for the meal again."_

_She stood, before she could bolt he caught her arm. She slowly turned to face him._

_"You going to leave without your pay for the day?"_

_She waited as he pulled out his money pouch, counted out a few coins and placed them in her hand, wish she quickly pocketed without looking at them. This was it. She was determined that this was the last time she would see Captain Tarnek or any of his crew. She had stayed for to long already. Her family would be here within a matter of days and she needed to be on the move. It was not safe to stay in one place to long. Captain Tarnek was putting to many things together as it was._

_Yet, the thought made her heart feel strangely heavy. A new feeling from the raw, shattered feeling that she had grown accustomed to feeling._

_"Thank you, Captain Tarnek, for everything."_

_He raised an eyebrow. "Your saying that as if you are saying good-bye."_

_She did not answer._

_He considered her for a moment. "Ya are, aren't ya?"_

_She just gave him a level stare._

_"Ah boy, I 'ate to loose ya. Ya 'ave been a good 'elp to me."_

_"Nothing Samson could not have done if he was up for it. You will be on your way soon in a couple of day, captain. I am just cutting the time a little shorter."_

_"That you are. Runaways often have to keep on the move after all."_

_She started looking at him in shock. He smiled triumphantly for a moment, finally having his suspicions confirmed._

_"How did you know?" she murmured, unable to think of anything else to say._

_"I guessed. I was one myself when I was your age, so it was not hard to recognize the signs."_

_"You ran away?"_

_"Yes. When I was about ya age."_

_"Why?"_

_He sighed. "I was young, 'bout ya age. The youngest of a rich merchants son. My parents where social climbers and they 'ad the money ta do et to. They put me and ma brothers in the academies. But I did not want ta be a scholar. I wanted ta be a sailor. Had been since I first laid ma eyes on one of my pa's ships. So one day I stowed away on one."_

_"What did the captain do once he found out?"_

_"Was not actually that surprised really. He was an old friend of the family and 'ad been telling me stories about the sea for years. He let me go on the trip as a cabins boy and once we returned home he managed to convince my parents to let me continue. They were none to happy about it but after a while they accepted it."_

_She looked at him for a moment. His life would have been easier as a scholar, or a teacher, or a priest in one of the foreign temples yet he chose the rough life at sea. To most it would seem silly but she understood it. After all she chose the life of a street urchin, living by her wits, instead of the luxurious life of a princess._

_"Do you ever regret it."_

_"No I don't. It 'as been tough, but the things I have learned, the places I have been, the people I ave met 'ave made it all worth it. I would not trade it for a 'undred life times as a aristocrat."_

_For a long time neither of them spoke._

_"So anyway, Chris, I do not need to know ya past. That is your business. But I was wondering if ya would like to come with us when we leave in a few days."_

_She gaped at him. "Me. A cabins boy? You cannot be serious."_

_"I am so."_

_"But why? I have never been on a ship, much less worked on one. I have no experience. I am not one of your country men. I–"_

_He put his hand over her mouth._

_"Stop yapping like a dolphin would ya and listen."_

_She blinked then nodded._

_"Why, ya ask? Simple really. Like I said before. I like ya. And so do the other men. Samson won't be up for another week or so. Someone ota take care of 'is work. Also, the boy could use a companion closer to 'is age on the ship. So many days at sea can get a little lonely, I will admit that."_

_She sat down, stunned. "You always think things through, don't."_

_"Shore do. Quickly to, that is what make me a good cap'ain."_

_She shook her head, hardly daring to believe it._

_"So, what do ya say? Want to join ma crew?"_

_For a full minute she gaped at him, trying to think. On a ship, surrounded by men, it would be harder to keep her secret but then again this could be her chance. To get away from here, to no longer worry about being recognized or being found by the knights and being dragged back to the palace. A chance to learn something new._

_And she would have friends, comrades, shipmates._

_Slowly the first real smile in months spread across her face and she heard herself saying: "Yes, captain. I would love to join your crew."_

_A couple days later she would be standing on the swaying deck of Captain Tarnek's ship. It felt odd but the sailors assured her she would get used to it._

_She watched as the green mass, her country, faded into the distance until it was out of sight and had the strange feeling of having her heart both seem to be sinking and flying at the same time. She was saying goodbye to everything she knew and was familiar with but at last she was free. Completely free. Out here on the endless stretch of blue-green water she was not constantly reminded of who she was, what she was running from. It did not matter that she was a former princess. No one knew of cared. She was free._

_My heart is not sinking, nor is it flying, she said to herself. No, it is sailing._

_Smiling she turned away and looked on ahead. Everything looked the same in every direction but never in her life had she seen anything that looked so full of promise and opportunity._

_Present_

"That is quiet the story," Will said as he finished putting the wood on the camp fire. The two of them had talked throughout the day. Once she had started it had been hard to stop and she had told him almost everything. Except for the fact that she was a runaway princess. He did not need to know that. Instead she had just told him that her family had been nobles and she had run away because she hated the pampered life.

She was not sure if he was convinced, but he did not press her.

She settled into her blankets. Mind filled with her past memories.

"You will have to tell me the rest tomorrow. You tale is an interesting one, young Chris," the ranger said as he settled down across from her. "You will have to tell me the rest of it tomorrow."

She nodded surprised that she was actually looking forward to telling him more. Will was a good listener. He had hardly interrupted but he never seemed bored or uninterested in what she had to say.

"Good night, Chris," he murmured as he settled in for the night.

"Good night, sir."

**What did you think? How did I do on Captain Tarnek's accent. I wasn't sure how to do it but I think I got it alright. Tell me what you think. Was it too boring, too long, weird having her past thrown in there like that?**


	18. Comfort

**Hey readers. Thanks for you reviews from last time. I have edited chapter 13 so it is less intense. So anyone who skipped over it. **

**There is one more thing. I am done with the excuses. I will get new chapters to you when I can and you'll just have to be patient when I can't. Please don't kill me for it. **

Chapter 18

Comfort

_She was riding along a road, the sun was setting and everything was either bathed in the shadows of the impending night or shining a brilliant golden, red hue with the last rays of the sun._

_ Ahead of her on the road a man waited, tall and imposing. Leven. In his hands was a huge sword, the kind that were used for executions. In front of him knelt a man with shoulder length pitch black hair, wide shoulders and the emblem of her royal family on the back of his jacket._

_ Airic._

_ She called out to him but he did not hear her. As she watched in horror Leven raised the sword and swung it. The terrible blade pierced flesh and Airic toppled side ways like a great, felled oak. She ran forward and fell to her knees beside him, desperately calling out his name as she turned him over._

_ As his face turned upward his body seemed to blur and shift under her hands until she no longer held her old protector in her arms. Instead she held a smaller, gray and green glad figure with a wound his in chest._

_ Redmond._

_ He stared up at her with lifeless eyes. In them reflected the first stars of the night and the flash of an enormous blade. She closed her eyes, knowing death would come swiftly._

"Redmond!" she gasped, sitting up in her bedroll, panting and sweating.

She looked around, confused, disoriented and scared, sure that at any moment Leven would leap from the darkness and stab her.

Slowly she remembered where she was.

Unbidden the tears fell down her face and she drew her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around them and buried her face in them, shaking uncontrollably.

She jumped when an arm wrapped around her shoulder and drew her close. At first she resisted against Will but his strong arms pulled her to his chest. After that she no longer had the strength to fight. She cried, her tears staining the Rangers tunic but he did not seem to notice. He just held her as she cried.

For a brief moment she remembered her promise at Redmond's grave that she would shed no more tears over him. She had to fight the sudden fit of hysterical laughter that threatened to overcome her sobs. Just as with the promise she had made Airic swear before he had left her that day she had made a promise she could not keep.

The hysteria faded and with it the remainder of her strength. Her sobs quieted and she felt more tired than she ever had in her life.

Her lids drifted shut and she was hardly aware of Will settling her back down in her blankets and drawing them up to her shoulder as she faded back into the world of dreams.

...

Will watched the boy for a few minutes. The tear tracks on his young face glistened in the light of the dying fire.

_So young and yet you carry so much on your shoulders._

Shaking his head he went back to his his own bedroll and laid down. For a long time he lay there, staring up at the sky. He ran over what Chris had told him earlier that day. About his past. Some of it anyway. He had watched him very carefully as he had talked and was sure that he was not telling everything. There were times were he had paused in his story, framing his words very carefully before speaking them. It reminded Will of when he had first met Evelyn, Crown Princess Casandra to the rest of the kingdom. Evelyn had cut her hair short and put on a different identity to protect herself and so no one would know she was the princess. When she had met up with Will and Gilan, another ranger, she had told then she was Evelyn the maidservant of a lady. When she had told her story, she too had hesitated and worded things carefully as if she was hiding something.

Chris was definitely keeping something to himself.

_Maybe Chris is a princess in disguise, too. _Will thought. Then he laughed at himself. Not likely. The chases of that happening twice in his lifetime were very, very slim.

He rolled over and closed his eyes, never giving it another thought.


	19. Choking

Chapter 19

Chocking

Christiana opened her eyes the next morning and blinked, confused. For a moment it seemed as if the ground had switched places with the sky as she looked up into a field of brown. She blinked again and the brown separated into two eyes.

"Morning."

She jumped, jerking away from him. He smiled as she sat up, staring wildly at him.

"Do not do that," she snapped. "_Lonek sieni._"

He raised an eyebrow. "One of these days you are really going to have to tell me what all these curses you keep throwing out mean."

She grimaced as she stood up right and brushed off her cloths. "Most of them I will not repeat."

"Well that's gratitude for you," he grumbled.

She flushed scarlet and looked away. The thoughts of last night filled her with embarrassment and anger. Not at Will, she was actually still rather stunned that he had done such a thing. No, she was angry at herself for letting her emotions get out of control again. Once in the jail and again last night. Both times in front of this man.

Letting out a sigh she turned back toward him.

"I am sorry. Your right. Thank you."

He rolled his eyes. "There you go again. Sounding more formal than a diplomat."

Her eyebrows shot up. "I am sorry?" she said, bewildered.

"Where did you learn our language from? Your way of talking seems very... up tight."

"Up tight?"

"Yeah. You know, long words, long sentences and a calculating air that makes it seem like you always think very carefully before you speak."

She frowned. "I hadn't noticed."

He sighed. "Of course not."

A little irritated she scowled at him. "I take it you an expert then. Associate with many politicians, do you?"

"Yes, actually."

She froze and he smiled.

"Part of being a Ranger is understanding and associating with politics, and even more importantly how to work around them."

She blinked. "Oh."

"A few of my closest friends are some of the most important leaders in the country. So, yes I have heard them talk a bit. In fact I tried my hand at a speech like that once. Stuffed full with long words and double sayings. I thought I was being clever and that it would be the best, most memorable speech ever. Lucky for me it was destroyed by accident on one of my missions or I would have been saying the stupid thing during their wedding."

Christiana just looked at him. She really had no idea who he was talking about but the fact seemed lost on him. He continued on to tell her how the pompous speech was destroyed during his mission with his mentor, Halt.

Still, she sat down to listened. Will was an interesting person. He seemed to know exactly when to be serious and then, when he no longer needed to be, he had the ability to seem absolutely carefree. _Seem_ being the key word. She did not know very much about him, though she knew he was not an idiot so he would not casually brush off his responsibilities. But it _looked _that way.

What a strange person.

"Chris. Chris? Chris!"

She jumped, torn from her train of thoughts.

"What?"

"Where you listening?"

"Yes."

She could tell by his expression that he did not believe her. "Clever how you used your bow to block that ax, even if it did break it," she added a little coolly, just to point out that she had been paying attention, if only half way.

He blinked then leaned back and laugh, making her look at him surprise.

"You have spunk, boy."

She stared at him for a while then shook her head. Will really was strange.

After he had finished laughing he went and got breakfast for them. It was simple, some bread and dried fruit. They ate quickly. The rest of the men ate and began to pack up for the rest of the journey.

Christiana grabbed an apple from her supplies and went to go catch Thorn. The men had erected a makeshift corral out of rope tied to the trees. As she looked over the milling animals it did not take her long to locate her horse. He was standing in a corner on his own, all the other horses staying as far from him as they could in the small space. Even Watharen's stallion and Leven's mare were to afraid of the pony.

She sighed as she slipped into the paddock.

"Is it a requirement for creatures to get cross and stubborn as they get old?" she said as she approached him. "If so I think I would rather die young."

His ears pricked when he heard her voice and he lifted his head. She gave him the apple, feeling some amusement at the self satisfied expression on his face as he chewed it. She could not smile though. She wasn't sure how long it would be before she could again.

Tying a lead to his halter she led him out of the paddock. As she headed back to the camp she saw Scout and Will's horse standing together outside of the rope barrier with nothing keeping them in place. The mares head was hanging low and Will's horse had his head resting on her back. He seemed to be almost comforting her.

The sight made her think back to what happened with Will last night and she felt embarrassment flood through her. That he had seen her, so weak and vulnerable like a little child, bugged her more then she cared to admit.

But she could not help remembering that his arms had been warm and strong. Like the safe harbors that Captain Taekes ships would port in during the storms of the winter months. It had been so long since anyone had held her like that. Not since Airic.

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she had not realized where she was going. Or that she had come up close to the wagon.

She saw a blur of movement out of the corner of her eyes and Thorn jerked away from her, startled. She didn't eve have time to gasp before to, huge hands closed around her throat.

Thorn's lead slipped from her hands as she clawed at the fingers, trying to pry them away from her neck. Her nails left bloody furrows on his hands but her finger only scraped painfully on the cuffs on his forearms. The chain between his wrists were straining against the bars of the prison wagon, threatening to snap. Terror filled her as she looked up into his eyes. So dark the were almost black.

Watharen.

She kicked and struggled but she could not hurt him. The wagon bars, meant to keep him imprisoned now made it impossible for her to reach him. To kick him, to fight him off. She could not even scream.

"Years of planning," he hissed. His soft voice so much more dangerous than shouting. "All those years in waiting in a slum of a country that was not mine. Forced to work with the low lives of society until I could find what I was looking for. Finally I found it only to have everything ruined by you and those rangers."

She tried to snarl at him, but it was no use. His hands were too tight around her throat. Her frantic fingers slowed and fell from his wrists as black begin to fill her vision. Her head was pounding. He was choking the life out of her.

She heard shouting but could not see anything anymore. She was dying.

Distantly, as if she were wrapped in a blanket, the rest of the world stifled and quiet, she heard as bellow of pain and finally, the crushing fingers released her.

She crumpled to the ground, gasping in lungfuls of air, clutching at her throat. Once again she felt as if the fingertips had been branded into the tender skin of her neck. She could feel it all the way through to the inside of her throat.

Coughing she looked up, wondering what had made him let go. The sight that greeted her almost made her laugh. Thorn had sunk his huge teeth into Watharen's arm, just as he had with Leven. Watharen mouth was wide open as he shouted, trying to yank hid arm from the horses mouth but she could not hear it. Her blood was still rushing in her ears, making it impossible to hear anything.

The world seemed to move around her as men crowded around. She saw Martin's face, along with Captain Thomas who was shouting something over his shoulder. She blinked. Everything seemed to be shifting in and out of focus, one moment fuzzy and indistinct then next sharp and vivid.

Will's face was suddenly in front of her, his mouth moving rapidly as he grasped her shoulders but she could only hear his voice faintly.

As she continued to stare at him his voice got louder and clearer.

"Chris, Chris, are you alright?"

For a moment she stared at him then slowly nodded.

His face relaxed, though only a little bit. Carefully he slid his fingers under her chin and tilted her head up to expose her throat so he could examine it.

She shoved his hands away.

"I'm fine Will," she said. Or tried to anyway. All that came out was a hoarse croak. His eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head. "Don't try and talk. Can you stand?"

She nodded, heaving herself to her feet. The moment she was standing the world seemed to tip and spin around her, making everything a blur once more. She wasn't even aware that she was falling until Will caught her.

"Martin, help him back to the camp."

She didn't protest as Martin put her arm around his shoulders and led her from the sight. Every step felt like it was going through the ground, making her lurch and teeter with every stride.

Finally Martin lowered her onto a log, keeping a firm hold of her shoulder to make sure she did not tip over backwards.

"Are you alright?"

She gulped, testing whether it was safe to talk, and was rewarded with a flare of pain. All she could do was nod at him.

Slowly he took his hand off her shoulder, ready to lung and catch her if she should fall.

She put her head in her hands, willing the world to stop tilting, for her head to stop pounding and her vision to go back to the way it was supposed to be.

"Is he alright?" Will's voice said somewhere above her head.

"I do not know. He ain't said anything yet," Martin said.

"Thank you Martin, go get your horse, and get his as well."

She heard Martin groan but he stood and left without complaint.

"Chris," Will said, now much closer. "Let me see."

Slowly she straitened, looking right into his brown eyes.

"I am alright," she said, pleased when the words were actually recognizable, if not normal.

"Let me see," he said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

With a sigh, even that hurt, she tilted her head up. His hands reached forward and carefully touched her neck, so gentle that she barely felt them as they brush along her adam's apple and the muscles along her throat.

"Nothing seems to be damaged, at least I do not think he crushed anything. You'll be bruised pretty good though."

She almost snorted but she stopped herself just in time. Instead she gave him a skeptical look as if to say "Really?"

He smiled.

"Stay here."

He got up and walked away.

Tentatively she touched her fingers to her throat, feeling the ache of the rapidly forming bruise. It was the second time this had happened. When Leven had told her he knew her secret and now with his father. The first time it had taken days for her to talk normally and it had been a week before the pain had faded completely. This time she was sure that it would take even longer. Leven had only been trying to scare her, not kill her.

Will returned, a rag dripping and wet hanging from his hands. He crouched beside her and wrapped it loosely around her neck. She stiffened as the freezing water touched her skin. He must have gotten it from the near by stream.

"To bad it isn't winter or we could but some snow on it."

She grimaced at the thought. Back in Elendor the winters had been short and it rarely snowed. Naturally she hated the cold.

"I do not smoke but I will see if the men have any pipe tobacco."

She raised her eyebrows at him and he grinned. "Strange, ha? Tobacco really helps with bruises. I remembered laughing at Halt the first time he told me that."

Halt. He had mentioned that name before. She wasn't sure but it was clearly someone that Will regarded highly. He had the same look in his eyes that Samson once did when he was talking about Captain Tarnek. The same look she imagined was on her face when she thought about Airic.

She wondered if she would be able to meet this Halt someday.

They finally got underway after Will had her rub crushed pipe tobacco into her neck before wrapping it lightly. Still, her neck ached with every step Thorn took, every time she swallowed or moved her head at all the sour muscles screamed at her.

That was the second time she had survived an attempt on her life.

In the back of her mind she wondered if she would survive the next one.


	20. Castle Araluen

Chapter 20

Castle Araluen

"Chris!"

Chris looked away from Martin up to where Will was at the head of the column. Martin had quickly made a game out of her incapability to speak, due to the fact that every time she did she sounded like a frog and her throat would protest painfully.

He would tell her to think of something and then he would try to guess what it was by using yes or no questions. At first she had refused to play along until he had said something so absurd she had not been able to stop herself from shaking her head at him. After that there was no stopping him.

Feeling some what relieved she waved a hand at Martin and carefully urged Thorn into a trot. When Martin had brought the pony to her she had hurried to get him cleaned in the creek. Watharen's blood had covered the chestnut's muzzle and it somehow looked even more morbid then blood around the mouth of a dog or a bear.

As she neared the Ranger she raised her eyebrows, silently asking what he wanted. He grinned, pointing at the hill top they were heading for. The green grass that covered the hill was shaded slightly orange in the light of the setting sun.

"I have something to show you."

She followed him up the hill. At first she could see nothing that would invoke the expectant smile on Will's face but as they crested the top of the hill she felt her eyes go wide. Her hands automatically tightened on Thorn's reins, making him stop.

Before her stretched a few open fields before reaching a bustling city. The columns of smoke rising from the smoke stacks glowed orange and the stone houses were all flushed with the same light. And in the very center of the city, on top of a rise, was a palace.

It was beautiful. Towering white walls, glistening spires, turrets and balconies. However, to the trained eye, beauty was not the only thing that the castle had. The walls were tall and thick. The windows all at strategic positions to shoot down on any enemy troops that could have gotten into the courtyard. In fact, the entire city was mapped out to withstand a full scale attacks. All on four sides two look out tires pierced the sky, huge, silver trumpets facing toward the city, ready to alert the people and soldiers of approaching enemies. The houses were arranged so the shorter, one story buildings were on the outside and the buildings became progressively taller as they neared the castle. An archer could easily stand on the roof and shoot at the enemy without fear of hitting their comrades. And if the enemy managed to take the roofs it would not be hard to shoot them off. Also, from her high position, she could see several places were barriers could easily be erected to block and fight the enemy.*

Will laughed at the expression on her face.

"So what do you think?"

Even if she could speak she was not sure if she could find words. It was not as if she had never seen a palace before. She had grown up in one. But her home palace was of an entirely different make, all arches, glass and beauty.* Gorgeous, but delicate. Like a flower. This palace was majestic and powerful. Big enough to shelter the entire city with in its walls. A warning to all evil.

She shook her head in wonder. This was the castle of a kingdom that was not afraid to defend itself.

"Leaves you a little speechless, doesn't it?"

She gave him an inquiring look clearly asking if it was possible for _anything _to render Will speechless.

He just grinned and urged his pony on. Scout following behind as she had the entire journey.

Christiana stared at the palace for a moment longer before going after him. Questions were buzzing around in head but she did not voice them. Not only because she could not but because, as her initial shock of the palace faded, another feeling crept in. Dread. She suddenly felt very small, Will's words suddenly much less reassuring. How could he promise her anything? Her fate rested in the hands of the king. The king who lived in _that _palace.

She bit her lip, her hands tightening again on Thorn's reins, making him toss his head in inpatients, as if to ask her to make up her mind.

For the first time the thought of running away really entered her thoughts. But where would she go? Will would catch her before she got out of sight of the castle then there was no telling what would happen after that.

Sucking in a deep breath she again urged Thorn on. He purposely broke into a hammering trot that made her bounce around painfully in the saddle. She was glad for the momentary distraction as she lifted herself in the stirrups to soften the impact between steps. But the dread quickly returned as they neared the city.

Her heart lurched painfully in her chest when the trumpet at the tower let out three, clear, ringing notes.

Will saw her start slightly and smiled reassuringly. "It means we're friends."

She looked at him uneasily.

The city itself held no fascination for her. Her eyes were fixed on the castle and with every step Thorn took her heart grew heavier. Every time she tried to picture the king she saw someone who resembled Watharen. Tall, powerful, imposing and dark. Gazing at her with the same cold, uncaring eyes of her father.

Then they were at the palace gates. Her mouth was dry as she craned her head back to look at it all. Black iron was carefully constructed, twisting and swirling in fantastic patterns. But she had no doubt that it would withstand any battering ram and that the stone behind it was just as strong.

On either side of the gate two large crests were carved into the stone.

A man came out of a small gate house. Will dismounted to talk to him.

She did not even try to listen to what they were saying; she was focused on keeping all emotion off her face and out of her eyes.

The man raised a flag and waved. She saw an answering wave at the top of the towers on either side of the gate just as it began to swing open. Will got back on his horse and led her and the rest of the procession through. Her eyes looked around. She could see men up on the walls, a few who quickly glances at them then turned away.

The place was beautiful inside as it was outside. There were cobble stone pathways with green sweeping lawns stretching all the way up to the stone walls of the palace. Trees were planted everywhere accompanied by ponds and man made streams. Benches and tables dotted the area so people could sit and enjoy the palace grounds.

The main path opened into a large quart yard before the palace, a bubbling fountain in the middle with a wide, grand stair case leading up to two large oak doors. She glanced around nervously as the rest of their group gathered around behind them.

Will dismounted once more, looking around. "Someone is supposed to meet us," he said in answer to her inquiring look.

"Will," a booming voice said, making them both jump.

They turned to see a man coming down the stairs. He was big. Not in the same way Captain Tarnek had been, bear like an hulking, but more like Watharen was. Tall with broad shoulders and a tapered waist. His easy, graceful movements marked him as either a dancer, or a warrior. She was inclined to think it was the latter since a large sword hung from his hip.

His face was almost clean shaven except for a mustache on his upper lip, the same shade of brown as his hair. He wore sturdy cloths but they were of fine material. On his chest, just above his heart, was the same symbol that had been on either side of the gate and she had seen on several flags already.

"Horace," Will called, clearly delighted, his brown eyes sparkling with delight.

She watched, a little startled, as the man came forward and swept Will into a bear hug that easily lifted the smaller man off his feet.

"Horace, ouch," Will choked. "Your crushing me."

Horace laughed and set him down, looking around at the assembled men, his eyes hardening when they fell on the prisoners and the prison cart.

"So these are the bandits that have been causing so much trouble."

Will nodded, rubbing his ribs with a pained grimace. "The leaders anyway and a deserter."

Christiana shot him a glare as she dismounted from Thorn.

He shrugged helplessly. "Sorry, until you tell me the rest of your story I really do not know how else to describe it."

Horace strode over and she tensed, unsure of what he was going to do. She wasn't sure what would be worse, if he threatened to hit her, or he hugged her. But he did neither. He did look down at her for a while, standing close enough she had to crane her head back to look up into his face but she did not look away. She gazed into his eyes without flinching.

He frowned.

"You seem pretty young to be running around with a bunch of ruffians."

She did not answer.

"I thought that too. But he was useful to them. He is a skilled woodsmen and bowmen. Also, with him being so young, he was easy to manipulate."

Again she gave him a glare but he just shrugged once more.

"Will," another voice said, high and clear.

All of them turned to see a women gliding down the stairs toward them. Christiana couldn't help but stare. She was beautiful. With long blond hair and vivid green eyes that sparkled with a sense of fun and joy as she looked at the Ranger.

"Evanlyn," Will said in delight, his entire face lightening up just as it had when he saw Horace. Then he bowed in a half joking manner. "I mean, Crown Princess Cassandra."

Christiana, despite all her training, despite all her years of experience keeping her face completely blank felt her mouth drop open and her eyes go, if possible, wider.

Evanlyn, or Cassandra laughed and came and hugged Will. "Oh, shut up." She told him playfully.

Will looked over at Christiana chuckled.

"Chris, your going to catch flies with your mouth hanging open like that."

Said mouth quickly snapped shut as Horace and the Princess turned to look at her, laughing as well when they saw her dumbstruck expression.

"Chris, come over and meet Evanlyn."

Feeling like she was being choked by Watharen again she came to Will side and look up into the Princess's warm eyes.

"Who is this Will?"

"His name is Chris."

Chris bowed at the waist deeply, just barely catching herself from dipping into a curtsey. Now that would have been hard to explain.

Briefly Will told Evanlyn Christiana's predicament and the warm green eyes became soft with sympathy and sadness when she was told of Redmond's death.

"Our country has lost another fine man," she said solemnly.

They all nodded and were silent for a moment. They were interrupted by Captain Thomas's approach. Will made the necessary introductions while Christiana took the opportunity to examine Evanlyn. She was convinced that this Evanlyn, this Princess was the exact same one that Will had talked about back in the prison. But how was that possible, she was a princess, how did she get captured be Skandians? How did Will know her? How did he come to know her?

As Horace and Evanlyn talked to Captain Thomas about the movement of the prisoners she sidled closer to Will.

"Is she the Evanlyn that you told me about?" she croaked, wincing when her throat throbbed in protest.

Will smiled and nodded.

"But...how?"

He smiled. "I've wondered that many times myself, actually."

Before she could ask anything more Evanlyn turned back toward them, looking at Christiana with a frown of concern.

"Are you alright? You sound very sick."

"Watharen, the leader of the bandits, strangled him when he got too close to the cart this morning."

"What, why?" Horace said.

"Seems Watharen blames Chris for the downfall of his operation and the death of his son. Redmond and I brought actually captured him, but he still blames him."

With a start Christiana realized she had not yet heard exactly what Will and Redmond had done to capture Watharen. She hoped she would have a chance to find out.

She was pulled from her thoughts when Evanlyn came towards her.

"Let me see," she said.

"See what?" Christiana forced out.

"Your neck."

Christiana cast an uncertain glance at Will, he just nodded and she reached for her collar, loosening it a little. Evanlyn slowly reached forward, a reassuring smile on her face before she grabbed her chin and tilted it up and away.

Horace sucked in a deep breath through his teeth.

"Ouch."

The bruise was quiet the sight to see. Bluish black in some places while a purple brown on the edges. Evanlyn very carefully places her fingers on the marks. The matched those of hands exactly, hands that were much bigger than the Princess's. Christiana's neck, from her collar bone up right under jaw was covered with the bruise. There were a few stripes of lighter skin where the gaps of his fingers had been, but for the most part her neck looked as if it had been painted with violet colors.

Even Will winced. He had not seen it since that morning, when it was nothing but livid red marks.

"We should get you to the physician and have that looked at."

Unable to help herself Christiana pulled away and looked at the Princess incredulously. For the two Rangers to be kind was on thing, but the crown princess?

Evanlyn frown, no doubt confused by the reaction.

Will smiled and patted Christiana on the shoulder.

"You see Chris, these are the kind of people that run out country. The king will give you a fair trial."

She just stared at him then shook her head, completely bewildered.

Evanlyn looked between the two of them. "Why would you think we would not give you a fair trial. We are not barbarians."

"No, your highness, it is not that," Christiana hurried to say then grimaced in pain.

Evanlyn held up her hand.

"No more talking. Horace, you know what to do here, right?"

"Yes, dear."

Evanlyn smiled before taking Christiana's hand and pulling her toward the open castle doors. "I will take this boy to fathers physician."

…

Will watched the two of them disappear into the castle and smiled.

"I think the two of you went a long way in relieving some of young Chris's worries."

"What did he think we were going to do? Chop him up and eat him?"

"From what I have learned about where he grew up, I would not be surprised if that is exactly what he thought."

Horace shook his head in pity. "Poor fella. What do you think his plans are after all this is over."

Will shrugged helplessly. "I do not know. Redmond wanted me to look out for him but I still am not sure how to do that exactly."

"You'll think of something," Horace said to his long time friend. "You always do."

Will smiled then turned to Captain Thomas. "Lets take care of these Ravens."

***Now I know that John Flanagan did not describe Castle Arulean like that, but it was awesome in my imagination. I sort of took cities from a couple books along with a couple of my ideas and blended them into one. If any of you have read the Inheritance series you might have felt an echo in the description of the sea side city Teirm,**

***If you want to have an idea of what Christiana's home palace look like than watch the Lord of the Rings Movie. The Elves city of Rivendale is somewhat the same, though her home has less trees and waterfalls and more towers. They don't really have winter there, since it is much farther south than Arulean so they really do not need inclosed walls. It was made for bueaty and not for defense, hence Chirstiana's stunned reaction to Castle Arulean.**


	21. The Cora

**Sorry, Readers. My laptop broke and I did not get it back until recently. Hope these next few chapters will make up for it. Enjoy.**

Chapter 21

The Cora

Christiana looked up as there was a knock on the door, it opened and Will poked his head around to look at her.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better," she croaked. She pointed to a jug at the table in her room. "Cold buttermilk helps ease the sourness."

He nodded and entered looking around. It was not a grand room, but it was not shabby. A simple dresser in which to keep possessions and cloths. A bed and a table with two chairs at which to eat. A window looked out over the grounds. Far better than the prison cell she had half been expecting.

"Did you like the castle physician," he asked innocently.

Christiana stopped, hesitant to answer. Will laughed at the expression on her face.

"I hear he can be a little on the snappish sometimes, but he is one of the best."

Snappish was a bit of an understatement. From the moment that Evanlyn had led her into the room the man had been grumbling without stopping. He had not even greeted the crown princess properly but had come up and instantly grabbed Christiana's chin and forced her head up so he could examine the bruise. But Evanlyn had only smiled warmly and reminded the physician to be gentle, that Chris was not used to his antics before leaving her in his care.

Between a grumble and a complaint about his job Christiana managed to learn that his name was Laurence.

The worst part was when he had ordered her to strip so he could examine the entire bruise. Instead she had loosened her collar as much as it could go and pulled the fabric toward her shoulder. He had raised one grizzled eyebrow, but, luckily, he had not pushed the point. He had examined the bruise, put salve on it, ordered her to get buttermilk from the kitchen and quickly treated her other various injuries. Afterward, she had been escorted to her room, relieved that her secret had remained hidden once more.

She had no way of knowing that, an hour later when Evanlyn had come to ask Laurence about Christiana's condition that he grumbled about the boys reluctance to undress, or that Evanlyn thought about it for some time after ward.

"He is...interesting," she finally allowed only making Will laugh again. His smile faded though.

"I have just reported to the king."

She felt herself tense for a moment then forced herself to relax.

"What did he say?"

"Over the next week he will judge and sentence the Ravens. Watharen will likely be sentenced to death."

Christiana clenched her jaw as a Airic's face flashed across her mind, as well as the dream she often had: the flash of an ax, the still body of her bodyguard. But this was different, Watharen deserved and needed to die.

"Your trial will come after."

She nodded, showing that she understood.

"In the meantime, King Ducan asked that I get the rest of your story, so that he can judge you fairly. If you feel like your up to it, I would like you to tell me tomorrow."

For a moment she was silent then she nodded.

He smiled and patted her shoulder.

"Get some sleep. You have had a trying day."

"Rest up my voice for tomorrow you mean," she croaked.

He ginned. "That too."

He walked over to the door.

"Good night, Chris."

"Goodnight...thank you."

He nodded and left.

Long after he had left and the sun went down she remained sitting, legs crossed on her bed. Trying to decide what would be best to tell Will in the morning. She was once again plunging into the thoughts and memories of her past. Back to the first months after she had been recruited by Captain Tarnek on his ship, the _Cora_.

Within the first week she knew she knew she was in trouble. For several reasons. Number one of which, she loved her new life. She took to life on the ship, in the words of her Captain, like a fish to water. She had learned about everything on the ship quickly, she did Samson's job until he had. Once he was on his feet, he was a good companion, too good. The more comfortable she became the more she distanced herself from her fellow crew members, and that was because of reason number two. The secret of her gender.

There was no problem of her birthright being found out. Not a single member of the crew was from her country. But other secrets were not so easily guarded. She was on a ship and a ship, no matter how large, was not a place to keep secrets. There were too many people, too close together in the middle of the ocean. She kept herself because she knew if she let anyone get close, they would discover her secret.

She struggled through one month and had just begun to hope that she would at last long enough for the ship to land in another country for her to disembark and start over. Now, she wanted to laugh. She should have known that nothing escaped Captain Tarnek's notice.

_One Month At Sea_

_(Flashback)_

_Christiana walked across the wooden deck, smoothly rolling with the motion of the ship. An action that had quickly become unconscious as the days had gone on and she had become used to the constant rocking of the deck. _

_ Finally she stopped in front of one of the few doors on the ship, the rest were hatches leading below. This one was the door to the Captain's cabin._

_ Feeling a little nervous she raised her hand and knocked._

_ "Come in," Captain Tarnek's booming voice came from inside._

_ Turning the handle she stepped inside._

_ "You wanted to see me, Captain?" she asked as she shut it behind her._

_ Though it was dim and it took her eyes a moment to adjust, she had no problem finding the bear like form of her Captain among the sparse furnishing of his cabin. The room had a Spartan style to it. Simple bed, though rather large to accommodate Captain Tarnek's huge size. One dresser to hold possessions and clothing, a table with a few chairs, and a cabinet holding maps and documents. Everything was either built right into the wood or bolted to the walls and floor so it would not topple over or slide when the waves rocked the ship._

_ "Yes Chris, come 'ere."_

_ She walked over to where he was sitting at the table, hunched over some maps. She waited patiently as he finished writing some coordinates on a separate piece of parchment before leaning back and looking at her._

_ "Do ya know why I 'ave asked ya to come 'ere?"_

_ "No sir," she said. Before she had walked into the cabin she had mustered her Court face and it gave nothing away as those dark eyes examined her._

_ "Hmmm," he said, the sound a deep rumble like the crash of the waves against the shore. "Samson came ta talk to me last nigh'."_

_ She kept a look of polite interest in place._

_ "He is worried about ya."_

_ Her eyebrow raised in genuine surprise. "Me?"_

_ "Yes, lad. You. Believe it or not, he likes ya, despite all your efforts to keep 'im at a distance."_

_ "Sir?"_

_ His face had darkened and she had swallowed nervously. "Do not take me for a fool, boy. Ya 'ave been staying away from the rest of the crew as if they 'ave the plague."_

_ She had remained silent but inside she grimaced. No, she did not take Captain Tarnek for a fool, but it would be easier if he was._

_ "Sorry sir," she finally said after they had remained silent for a while._

_ Captain Tarnek sighed and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes._

_ "Chris, Chris, I asked ya to come onto the ship because I liked ya. On shore ya were a bright young lad, good enough to help a sailor boy in trouble. What changed to make ya a cold fish."_

_ She decided not to answer. He leaned forward._

_ "Do ya not like life 'ere on the ship?"_

_ "No!" she protested quickly. "I do like being part of your crew Captain."_

_ "Yet you do not talk or join the crew," he mused. "If you do like it 'ere then why 'ave you been asking Samson about where are next por' is?"_

_ "Just curious, sir."_

_ "And yet ya 'ave packed up ya belongings."_

_ She wanted to curse. Darn you Samson, darn you._

_ When she did not answer his voice softened. "Are ya planning on leaving us?"_

_ Unable to look at him she looked at the map. "I do not wish to, sir."_

_ It was a confirmation, not a direct one, but one all the same._

_ He leaned back again, regarding her solemnly._

_ "Is that all, sir," she said, angry with herself when all she could manage was a whisper._

_ "No," he said firmly, making her look up at him. He gestured at the chair beside him. "Sit. We 'ave not talked since we left and it is about time we do."_

_ Reluctantly she pulled out a chair and sat._

_ "I ain't going to attack ya, lad," he said when he took in that she was sitting on the edge of her seat._

_ "I did not think you were," she responded._

_ "Really? Then why do ya look like ya ready to bolt out the door."_

_ Taking in a deep breath she scooted back in her seat and leaned back._

_ "So, let me see if I 'ave this right. Ya do like being a member of the crew, but ya are shy of your shipmates. Ya do like livin on the ship, yet ya plan to leave at the next port. Am I correct."_

_ He took her silence as another confirmation._

_ "I do not know what ya think, but that does not fit together. So I have come up with three reasons."_

_ She looked up at him as he counted off on his fingers. "One, ya were lying when I recruited ya and ya only wanted to use me to get somewhere else or escape Elendor. Two, ya wanted to be on the ship at first but in the past week have learned that ya do not like it 'ere. Three, ya really do like it 'ere, and your afraid cause of that. Afraid that it will be taken away from you."_

_ At this she looked down at her hands, unable to bare his gaze any longer. All of his reasons were right, in part. She had needed to get away from Elendor. She had realized after a week that she loved her life here but it would be next to impossible to keep her secret. And she was afraid. Good things, in her experience, did not last very long._

_ "That, or ya are hiding somethin."_

_ "That was four reasons," she pointed out weakly. He did not respond, only gazed at her._

_ For a long time there was silence, she heard the men shouting as they went about their duties keeping the ship on course._

_ "So, which is it, lad?" Tarnek finally said._

_ She took a breath. "Pieces of all of them."_

_ His dark scowl told her he was not satisfied with this answer._

_ "If ya will not tell me, then I will tell you."_

_ Christiana looked up at him in alarm._

_ "You do have a secret, don't ya, lad. Or should I say, 'lass'."_

_ Both of them were startled by what happened next, instinctively and without thinking Christiana leaped to her feet, eyes wide with shock and fear. She wasn't sure herself why she reacted to violently and she instantly cursed herself for it. She should have stared at him and laughed, or looked at him with a blank expression. Her reaction only proved that he was right._

_ His eyes were a little wide as well._

_ "Easy Chris. Ya don't 'ave to be afraid. I ain't going to 'urt you."_

_ She clenched her fists, trying to get herself to calm down._

_ "How did you find out?" she finally said._

_ He ducked his head slightly, Christiana stared. He was blushing. Captain Tarnek was blushing?_

_ "How old are ya, lass?"_

_ "Twelve," she said warily._

_ "Your becoming a young lady, Chris. There are...signs when that happens."_

_ She stared at him in confusion then, realizing what he meant she felt her face go red. Automatically she glanced down at her chest. The baggy, loose, white shirt she wore, typical for sailors, showed nothing. Unless she was wet. She and Samson had gone swimming the other day when a group of dolphins swam by. If someone had been looking careful when they climbed back over the side._

_ A groan rose in her throat and she buried her face in her hands. How could she have been so stupid? Just as she had feared, she had let her guard down._

_ "Come on now, lass. It was bound to happen. Ya can't change the way ya are. There is nothing wrong with being a girl."_

_ She let out a humorless laugh._

_ "Nothing wrong except people are always underestimating you, you can work twice as hard as hard and get half the money a boy does for his job, and your more likely to get robbed or worse while traveling," she said bitterly. "It is much easier being a boy."_

_ "Sounds like ya know what ya talkin about."_

_ "I have been on my own for nearly a year. I thought I had learned my lesson. Obviously not."_

_ He frowned, confused._

_ She sighed and looked up at him. "I promise I will be gone at the next port as planned, Captain Tarnek."_

_ As she got up to leave his large hand shot out and grabbed her arm._

_ "Now just hold on yougin. I ain't going to throw ya out of my crew."_

_ She turned to look at him with a guarded expression, disbelief clear in her eyes._

_ "I'm not," he said firmly. "Chris, ya aren't the first lass I 'ave had on this ship." _

_ Slowly she blinked._

_ Firmly but gently he pushed her back into her chair._

_ "Her name was Cora, my daughter."_

_ He laughed when she looked up startled. "Hard to imagine an old tub like me married, ain't it."_

_ "No," she protested. "Just...unexpected."_

_ His booming laugh told her he he was not fooled._

_ "I was. When I was still a fisherman instead of a merchant. My wife was name Johanna."_

_ Christiana watched as Tarnek's eyes became soft and warm, but also, very, very, sad. It made a lump form in her throat. It was so similar to the one Airic used to have when she had been crying and upset._

_ "She was so kind, so tiny that I was often afraid she would shatter. We had our first child a year after we were married. A little girl who we named Cora."_

_ Reaching into the collar of his shirt he pulled out a small pouch that hung around his neck on a leather thong. Opening it he pulled out a bracelet. It was a simple one, made out of shells with a string woven though them. It looked tiny in Tarnek enormous hands, meant for a woman's wrist. As he twisted it she saw symbols painted on the largest shells. He tapped them with his fingers._

_ "It is a charm. When a child is born three symbols are choosen that will summon the spirits that will guide the child through their lives. Johanna and I choose Kindness, Intelligence, and Strength of Spirit."_

_ He smiled. "I know ya might think it is all nonsense. But it seemed to work. Never met a girl so bright, happy, and strong willed. She could out do the most stubborn bull shark."_

_ For a while, he went silent, eyes distant. Once again his eyes became sad. "Johanna died when Cora was eleven from a illness. By then I 'ad become a captain of a small merchant ship. I took Cora with me on ma travels and raised her on the ship. She took to sailing like ya have done over the past couple weeks. The crew adored her. But she still felt out of place so she chopped off 'er 'air and went around in boys cloths. Like ya done."_

_ Now it made some sense as to how he figured it out so quickly. He would have gotten used to seeing the small differences the separated his daughter from the rest of the crew._

_ "What happened to her?" she asked, almost afraid to hear the answer._

_ "She died, when she was fourteen from a infected wound."_

_ Christiana bit her lip. "I am sorry."_

_ He smiled sadly. "It happens. Death is just the price of life. You cannot 'ave one without the other and there no use trying to deny it."_

_ Once again Airic's face flashed through her mind. That was one death she had still not been able to except, nor did she think she ever could. He had not been taken from her by death. No, he had been delivered to the void by her own father._

_ "I tell you this, Chris, because I want you to know that just because your a girl does not mean I will think any less of you. I did not hire ya because ya were a skilled young lad. I hired ya because you are a bright, smart and brave person. Ya have a place on this ship lass, ya just need to be willing to take it."_

_ She stared at him._

_ "Do ya think you can manage that?" he asked, almost teasing._

_ Slowly, a small smile lifted the corners of her mouth. "Yes Captain." _

_ He smiled, clapping her on the back, almost knocking her right out of her chair._

_ "There ya go. That is more like the Chris I first met." His face scrunched for a moment. "By the way, lass. What is your real name?"_

_ "Christiana."_

_ She had left the cabin a while later. By then the sun had set and only a few men were about taking care of the ship. Her eyes were drawn to the side of the ship where the Cora was painted in white letters. Absently she brushed the railing. This ship was named after Tarnek's daughter. Though she had never met her, Christiana felt as if she knew the girl. Looking up at the star she smiled._

_ It might take a while for the crew to except her, but she hoped they would. Even if they did not, Captain Tarnek had, and she had a feeling Samson would as well._

_ Never one to disobey an order from her captain she did as he told her. She took her place on the ship._

_ She was home._

_.*.*.*._

Christiana felt a tear fall down her face as the memory faded from her mind. As precious and important as the memory was to her, she would not tell Will it. He needed to hear how she found the Ravens. Or rather, when Watharen had pushed her into it. That was at the end. When her newest home had been destroyed.

She knew exactly what she need to tell the Ranger in the morning. She just was not looking forward to reliving the memories that would come with it.

…

**AN: Just for the heads up. There will be a few flash backs through out the story. I did not want to start the story back in Elendor because it would have taken way too long to good to the real story, but important things happen in her past.**

**I apologize for my grammar issues. But there is not much I can do about them. I've always been bad in that area of writing.**

**Review if you feel like it, telling me what you think. But if you want to chew me out for not writing in...forever...then send my a private message. :)**


	22. A Royal Breakfast

Chapter 22

A Royal Breakfast

Christiana rose with the sun, as she did every day. Sometime in the night a maid had left a pitcher full of water with a wooden basin on the table, along with a pile of new cloths. A loose, dark blue tunic and tan breeches. She was surprised the maid's entrance had not waken her, but then, it had been a long day.

She frowned, looking down at herself. Her cloths were worn and travel stained. As well as torn and, in some places, bloody from the events of the past few days. Still, she had no been expecting them to give her cloths.

_Will must have more influence than I thought._

Shaking her head she went to the door, making sure it was locked before undressing. Pouring water into the basin she dipped a towel in it and washed herself thoroughly. Before slipping the new cloths on she rummaged in the bag that held her belongings. It had been brought up yesterday. As she pulled out a length of fresh bandages to bind her chest flat her fingers brushed across a small pouch with a leather strap around it. She knew a shell bracelet rested inside but she did not open it.

She wound the bandages tightly around her chest before slipping on the tunic and breeches. It felt good to be in clean cloths again. As she brushed her fingers through her hair so she could pull it back in a leather strap she fingered the locks, reminding herself once more that she would need to cut it soon.

After she was finished she looked around, unsure of what to do until Will arrived. She did not have to wait long though before there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," she called, pleased when her throat did not ache as much as it had yesterday.

Expecting to see Will's shock of brown hair she was a surprised when the princess walked through the door.

"Princess Evanlyn," she said, quickly bowing at the waist. "What a pleasant surprise."

Evanlyn laugh. "Oh dear, I am afraid that you have already taken up Will's habit of calling me Evanlyn."

For a moment, Christiana was confused then remembered that Evanlyn's rightful name was Cassandra.

"My apologize, your highness, I meant no disrespect."

Evanlyn waved her apology away. "I do not mind. I have come to invite you to join myself, my husband and Will for breakfast."

"I would be honored, Your Highness."

Evanlyn wrinkled her nose. "Will was right, you do talk like a noblemen. Just called me Evanlyn."

"Yes, your–" she just managed to stop herself from saying it again but Evanlyn heard it all the same and she laughed.

"Come on then."

Christiana fell into step behind the princess as she turned and walked out of the room. When they had been walking for a while Evanlyn looked over her shoulder.

"Will has told me some of your story, Chris and I would like to ask you something."

"Yes?"

"In Elendor, why were you on your own? What about your family?"

"I do not have any," was Christiana reply. It was not a lie, not to her. Her parents had never been much of a family. Her only true family had been Airic and her Nanna. Nanna died long ago and Airic was dead.

"I'm sorry."

She shrugged sadly, "It happens."

"So you are an orphan like Will." It wasn't really a question.

Christiana looked at Evanlyn in surprise. Partly curious, partly to avoid the slight question she asked. "Will was an orphan?"

"Yes. The baron at one of the largest fiefs in Araluen set up a ward for orphan children who's parents died in service to the fief. Will and my husband Horace both grew up there"

Horace was her husband? Christiana's mind whirled with questions, but she did not speak them. She had often found that silence was better on unfamiliar ground. Her thoughts turned to Will. She would have never guessed he was an orphan. As they continued walking she thought of the baron that opened up the ward. She had never heard of any of the lords doing that in Elendor. With everything she came to learn of this country, the more she was amazed by how different it was from her own.

_I certainly no patriot, s_he thought wearily. For the life of her the only good thing she could think of about her country was its good weather.

_No, _she told herself firmly, _it has its good people, too. You just did not get the chance to meet many of them._

She looked up when they entered a dining room. It was the largest or the finest in the castle but it was beautiful. Two walls consisted mainly of enormous glass windows to show a breathtaking view of the village and the surrounding country side.

At the sound of laughter she looked at the long, oak table. Will and Horace were already seated on opposite sides of the table, laughing fit to burst.

"What are you two clowns hooting over," Evanlyn said as she drifted over. Horace got to his feet and pulled out the chair beside him for his wife to sit, the one to the right of the head of the table, which was empty. Will waved Christiana over to the seat next to him, the seat across from Evanlyn.

"Just telling Horace about the thief who tried to ride off on Tug a couple missions back. He wasn't expecting the small little pony to give him any trouble."

Horace chortled. "I imagine he paid for that mistake with a bruised backside."

"More like a bruised ego. He even tried to mount _again_.

Horace laughed. "Idiot."

Evanlyn shook her head, and amused smiled on her face. Christiana looked between them in confusion but, once again, did not speak.

"How you feeling, Chris?" Will asked, brushing tears of mirth from his eyes.

"Better," she responded, only slightly horse.

"Let me see."

She lifted her head to expose her neck. Horace sucked in a breath as the livid bruise was revealed in full relief once more. It was a little better though, the black around the edges more faded and yellowing.

Will nodded. She lowered her head back down as servants came in and began to serve them their food. She waited until everyone else had started eating before taking a bite, chewing carefully so when it slid down her throat it did not hurt as much.

She listened as the princess, Horace and Will chatted. Nothing really important, that she could tell. Just idle chatter between friends. Reliving some memories together.

Without even meaning to she began to relax in the warm, cheerful atmosphere. It felt like...almost like laying in bed as Airic read to her, or sitting in her hammock on the ship talking with Samson.

She heard a door open but did not look up as she picked up her glass and took a long drink. Over the rim she watched as a tall, broad shouldered man came in, pausing to kiss Evanlyn, Cassandra, she reminded herself, on the cheek. Lines were beginning to appear in an otherwise handsome face. Rust colored hair now peppered with gray strands.

"Sorry I am late. Country affairs you know," he apologized.

"Oh, just that, You Majesty?" Will said in a too innocent tone, almost teasing.

Christiana did not hear the mans reply. She heard nothing past "Your Majesty."

This was the King.

Everyone looked around as she choked, just managing not to spew it all over the snow white table cloth. Burying her face in her arm she coughed painfully. Will slapped her on the back.

After a while she looked up, wide eyed and pale faced to see the Kings green eyes, exactly like his daughters, gazing at her. Instantly she leaped to her feet and bowed low.

"Your Highness," she said.

"Daddy, you scared the poor boy to death," Evanlyn scolded, "as if he wasn't tense enough already."

The King raised his hands in a surrender like gesture. "I didn't do anything, Cassie. You can sit down boy. I prefer my breakfast to be informal when it can."

Slowly, she sat. The King began to talk to his daughter and Will soon joined. Horace, feeling no need to join in, began to eat. Gradually so did everyone else. The atmosphere was still warm but she felt anything but relaxed now.

Idly she wandered why she had not been more panicked when she met Evanlyn. She was the Crown Princess after all. She was in utter awe of the women, there was not doubt about that. It still amazed her that a girl was the heir of the throne. Christiana's oldest sister was the first born and there had never been the smallest chance of her obtaining the throne. Evanlyn was nothing like her older sister. She was bright and open. Making it almost impossible to be scared of her.

The King was another matter entirely.

"Chris," a voice snapped her out of her train of thoughts and she looked around at Will. He grinned. "You look really pale."

Evanlyn laughed. "My dad is not going to attack you, Chris."

Christiana nodded but she still looked wary.

"However, I do want to talk to you, Chris."

"Yes, my lord."

"Last night some of the Ravens were interrogated. It did not take long for a large man to speak."

"Brent," she said said, more to herself than anyone else. The news hardly surprised her. Brent was a coward and would sell out Watharen, his father, without hesitation if he could save his own skin.

The king nodded. "He claimed that Watharen had larger plans than simply stealing and thievery. Do you remember hearing anything about their plans while you were with the Ravens."

She was silent for a moment. The night Leven had attacked her he had mentioned that Watharen was aiming for something much, much higher than raids.

"Yes, Watharen was after the throne."

They stared at her and Horace snorted. "Wow, he truly is insane."

"No," Christiana said sharply, gazing levelly at the warrior, her eyes solemn. "Watharen is cruel, evil, cunning and calculating but he is certainly not insane or stupid. He had a plan is place and I have no doubt that it was thought through."

"What plan was that?" the king asked before Horace could say anything else.

She glanced at him. "Watharen did not trust me so I was not told much, but his son...was bragging one night. He said that Watharen was trying for the throne, following the footsteps of his father who had tried to take Araluen before. He also said something about Watharen having harnessed the power that his father had."

The four Araluens exchanged looks of confusion.

"No one has seriously tried to take the Araluen throne before," Evanlyn said.

"Except Morgarath," the king pointed out.

The atmosphere, which had started out warm, suddenly seemed to freeze. Christiana looked around at the others, seeing all their eyes darken with anxiety and even fear. She did not know who this Morgarath was, but, judging by their reactions, he was not someone she would want to meet.

She made a note to ask Will later if she ever got the chance.

"Did Morgarath even have any children?" Evanlyn asked.

"Not that I am aware of, but he was in the Mountains of Rain and Night for fifteen years. He could have very well had a wife or a mistress during that time," the king said.

Christiana leaned back in her chair, mulling over the issue.

From what she had been able to gather from Watharen and his two sons she knew they spent most of their lives in a near by foreign country. She guessing that Morgarath was exiled from the kingdom after he tried to rise from the throne. A mistress or wife would have fled, not wanting to join him in exile nor stay in the country that he had betrayed, especially if she was pregnant with his child. Morgarath did not sound like the kind of man that would want an heir around. Heirs of those kind of men tend to get a little impatient to gain their birthright and are a threat to their parent.

She knew her father had been wary of her two brothers. His fears had been well founded, too. Christiana had overheard her siblings plotting against their father several times. Airic had been careful to keep her away from them when that happened.

Shaking her head she forced herself back to her originally train of thought. Watharen's mother, though she was afraid of going into exile with Morgarath, must have still either been very proud of him or truly loved him. She must have exaggerated and told many tales of Watharen's father, making him sound like some kind of hero, filling Watharen with hate for Araluen and the desire to continue his father work. Or maybe he just wanted to surpass his father. Growing up an Araluen child in a foreign country he must not have been very high in societies eyes and it urged him to succeed where his father had not.

She sighed internally and took a sip of juice. This was all guess work of course. She knew nothing really, just assumptions.

"I will have the Interrogators investigate further into this. If Watharen has somehow made contact with Mogarath's old armies, we will have to take some measures."

Will nodded in agreement as did Evanlyn.

She frowned. Old armies? Any army that Morgarath had should have either been destroyed or completely disbanded. There should be no army for Watharen to contact. She did not voice her questions, however.

"Has Watharen been interrogated," Will asked.

"Yes, he has," the king said. "But he has said nothing. He just gives them pieces of information that he knows we already know. Either that or completely useless information."

Will frowned. "Is that all, my lord?"

Christiana looked up when the king hesitated and could have sworn she had seen his green eyes flicker to her, but he looked away so fast she was not sure if she had imagined it or not.

"Yes."

But the look he gave Will made Christiana think differently, She had not doubt the king would talk to Will later. She wondered what else Watharen had said.

"Meanwhile, Will, you have your own line of investigating to do," the king reminded him, looking at Christiana.

Will nodded, clapping Christiana on her shoulder.

"I will handle it, your highness."

"Good."

After that the conversation moved on to other things, once again using names and terms she was not familiar with so she did not bother to. Before they all rose as the king did and bowed as he left to take care of more business.

Will turned to Christiana as the servants began to bustle in to clear away the remains of their breakfast.

"Alright Chris, we had better get started."

Evanlyn rolled her eyes. "At least take the boy on a walk around the castle as you do. The poor boy has been shut up since he got here."

"I am fine, you highness," Christiana protested.

"Still, it would not hurt you to get some fresh air," Will said, all but shoving her out of her seat. Already he was chatting about the formations and sites of the castle he wanted to stop by.

Both Horace and Evanlyn laughed at the confounded look on Christiana's face as Will herded her out the door.

"I think Will likes the boy," Horace commented as the door closed behind the two.

Evanlyn smiled then it faltered. "I wonder if that is a good thing."

"What do you mean?" Horace asked, giving his wife and inquiring look.

"Chris seems a little traumatized by this entire experience. After this is over, he might do all he can to leave here."

They fell silent, knowing their good friend would miss the boy if he left.

"Maybe he will want stay," Horace put in on a lighter note. "From what he has told Will of his own country Araluen is perfect."

The princess shook her head. "I do not think Chris is the kind of person who will stay even if he wants to. He needs to be given a reason."

She fell silent but, intoned with his wife's thoughts, Horace finished first. "And what reason will be good enough to get him to stay?"

Neither of them had an answer.

Meanwhile, Will, though he was talking to Christiana non stop, only half of his mind was in the tour. He had arrived at the same conclusion as Evanlyn had. He wanted to keep his promise to Redmond and take care of Chris, and he would be lying if he said he was not growing fond of the boy, but he had to think of something or Chris would leave.

His eyes fell on one of the many magnificent tapestries in the palace. It was dedicated to the rangers. The oakleaf, the symbol of the rangers, with a bow and a quiver of arrows on one side, the double scabbard on the other, and a cloaked figure looming above it.

As his heart swelled with pride at the sight and idea began to grow inside his mind.

**ATTENTION, VERY IMPORTANT: I am trying to think of a better title for this story. If you have any ideas they would be greatly appreciated. Or if you think it is fine, please tell me. **

**Also, if you are interested, I am putting up the very beginning of another fanfic. I am not going to really start writing it until this one is over though. It is just a reminder to do it eventually. It is a fanfic of of the Inheritance Series and is called Legacy. Personally, I'm excited about it.**


	23. The Calm Before the Storm

**Thank you, StoneStorm22995, MeSeesTheLight, 1, Ranger Robbin, Guests, and everyone else for you title suggestions. Many of them were great and inspiring. I liked many of them. I went back to the Rangers Apprentice and scanned for anything that I though would fit. I finally have come up with a few and I would like you guys to tell me which one you like best. **

**The first one is a variation of the title now. Instead of "Ranger or Princess", it is "The Oakleaf or the Crown".**

**The second one is "The Hidden Crown." Inspired by several of your guys comments.**

**The last "Royal Ranger" was suggested by a guest who just put G. Thanks G, whoever you are.**

Chapter 23

The Calm Before the Storm

Christiana leaned against the parapet, gazing over the wall. Before her the city was alive and busy. In the square she could see carts moving back and forth as the merchants rushed to sell their wares. Shoppers weaved in and out of each other, looking at the goods on display. Children laughed as they played in a fountain and dogs barked at the passing livestock.

Again she thought back to her own home city where she was born and raised. She had rarely been allowed to go into the actually city and Airic had always been careful to hurry through it when they went on their rides in the country side, but she had done a lot of looking and observing from the palace windows and walls. From here she could easily see the differences in the city from her memory and this one.

The streets were cleaner and well kept. No sewage or trash in the streets, nor cracked cobblestones or weeds. The buildings were arranged to give the city an open feel so there were few narrow, dark, twisting alleys.

She shook her head in wonder. Half listening to Will as he talked about something that happened to him when he came here once.

During the tour of the castle Will had kept a constant stream of chatter. Though she had remained silent and hardly looked at him, he had remained undaunted and talked on. In a way, his voice was comforting like a steady heart beat.

She turned away from the sight and followed Will back down the stairs. Once again he led her through the sweeping lawns. The grounds were doted with trees, benches and picnic tables, spaced wide enough apart so an enemy would find it hard to sneak through unseen but providing plenty of shade for the people to enjoy.

Christiana was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she almost did not notice that Will had stepped off the path. She just continued walking in a strait line until a hand at her elbow tugged her onto the grass.

He just nodded his head in the direction he was leading her in answer to her inquiring look. She look up to see a pond. It was a fairly large pond, with spots of cattails and waterlilies around the edges. In the water swans and ducks swam serenely through the water.

Finally the ranger came to a stop where the land jutted into the center of the pond a little. There was a weeping willow, it's long branches shading a couple benches and chairs. Will sighed contently and sat down in one of the chairs, stretching out his legs. He waved his hand to indicate she should take a seat and she sat down on the bench adjacent to his chair, facing out toward the pond.

For the first time in an hour, Will fell silent.

Neither of them broke the silence, content just for a moment to reveal in the beauty of their surroundings. She was grateful for his patients. He did not stare at her with anticipation or gesture her on with his hands. He gave no indication he was expecting for her to speak at all. He just remained quiet, looking at the birds in the pond and giving her time to collect her thoughts.

She watched as a swan cut its way though the water. Its graceful movements and the wake it left behind it reminded her of the Cora. The memory of the ship quickly filled her mind as well as what she was planning to tell Will.

Slowly she took in a deep breath then, just as slowly, let it out.

"I was on the Cora for little less than a year and a half. Captain Tarnek wanted to go farther with his trade and so we sailed North with a vague idea of what lay in this region of the world."

As Will's hazel eyes turned toward her she began, once more, to tell of her story.

_Seven Months Ago_

_ Christiana scrubbed the deck with old mop, but there was hardly any force behind her arms as she swept it idly back and forth. She was not slacking on purpose, but she was too busy taking in the world around her to pay close attention. The cool sea breeze was blowing in her face, rich with the tang of salt. She could even taste it on her tongue. The ship rocked back and forth with each swell of the ocean. The sails above her head flapped and fluttered in the breeze that kissed her face._

_ Her eyes scanned the ocean. She had noticed as the ship sailed further and further north that the water became darker. Less of the bright blue and turquoise and more gray. In a way, it had its own beauty. All the colors were muted and darkened, reminding her of the surreal feel of dreams and distant memories._

_ She heard the shuffled footsteps right before the horse battle cry. On the deck below her she saw a shadow bearing down on her._

_ Instantly she dropped to the deck, rolling to the side. Her attacker tumbled past her as she got back to her feet._

_ "Curses," Samson grumbled, wincing as he got to his feet. A large wet splotch was spread across his shirt, the source, his mop gripped in his hand. The same mop he had been trying to douse her with._

_ She sighed. "I have told you Sam. Battle cries are all well and good when you are trying to focus you attacks and strengthen you resolve but they are not good for sneaking up on a person."_

_ He scowled and flicked the mop at her but she just stepped back to avoid the few droplets that flung off the end._

_ "Another thing that Airic taught you, ha?"_

_ She cringed slightly and turned away back to scrubbing the deck. Though the ripping feeling she had once felt at the thought of Airic had faded over the years, a dull throb seemed to seer her heart._

_ "Oy, Chris, I'm sorry. That was out of line."_

_ She shook her head. "Its fine."_

_ He came up behind her and rested his hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. She looked over her shoulder to look at him, having to tilt her head to look into his face._

_ Over the past seasons Samson had hit his growth spurt. At the time it seemed as if he was growing right before her eyes. He grew taller. His leg, arms, and neck thickened slightly. His chest and, shoulders and back broadened. Though he looked a little gangly and uncoordinated she knew he would change quickly. Every time she looked at his broadening shape she felt something close to envy. No matter how hard she worked or trained she could never hope to be as strong or as large as he would be._

_ Not that she had not done her own growing, but it was not a good thing. Though her muscles were toned and strong, all leftover baby fat gone from her body, her face sharper and more defined. Her body had grown taller and slimmer. And her chest had been growing as well. She had had to develop a tight strap made out of canvas to suppress the rising swell. Now that she had lost the kid look, it was harder to hide the fact she was a girl._

_ Luckily she did not have to worry about hiding her gender here. Everyone on the ship already knew she was girl. The entire crew had been told only a couple days after Captain Tarnek had talked to her. Those who could not behave themselves or take it were let off at the next dock._

_ Still, it had taken her a while to prove that just because she was a girl did not mean she was weaker or incapable of doing jobs that the men themselves could do. For a while they had treated her like a glass vase. Until she had shown them that she could do everything Samson could do. He had been her rival. Everything he did she had to do just as well or even better. Through it all, ironically, he was her strongest supporter and closest friend._

_ "No, its not fine," he said, forcing her from her thoughts._

_ She shrugged of his hand. "Sam, I am fine. Do not worry about it."_

_ He scowled. "Ya cannot fool me, Chris. What can I do to make it up to ya?"_

_ For a long time she said nothing. Then suddenly she dove forward, snatched up her bucket of water and threw the filthy contents over her friend._

_ "I think that will be enough," she said promptly._

_ The look on his face, a mix between outrage and shock had her doubling over with laughter._

_ Slowly a slow smile crossed his face._

_ "Ya shouldn' of done that."_

_ He lunged at her and she nimbly danced out of the way. Too late she realized his mop was lying behind her and she stumbled over it. Before she could hit the deck he leaped forward and yanked her up into his arms._

_ "Sam, do not even think about it," she snarled as he began to walk toward the railing._

_ His grin just widened as he stepped onto the rail._

_ "Man overboard!" he shouted at the top of his lungs before tossing her toward the cold, gray waters._

_ She twisted in the air her hands and legs reaching. Her hands closed around his wrist and her legs hit the side of the ship, giving her the leverage she needed to pull him over the railing with her._

_ He let out a shout of surprise which was instantly cut off as they splashed into the water._

_ Christiana came up first, shaking the water from her hair._

_ Sam came up sputtering, glaring at her. She laughed. "Serves you right."_

_ Booming laughter from above had them both looking up, treading water._

_ "Should 'ave known it was ya two."_

_ Captain Tarnek's laughing eyes met there's._

_ "Mornin' Cap," Sam said, waving a hand, which earned him a mouthful of water as he sank. Christiana laughed._

_ "I thought I told ya two to scrub the deck?" the Captain said sternly._

_ "She pulled me in, sir," Samson wined._

_ "You threw me in."_

_ "Only because ya soaked me with ya bucket."_

_ "You tried to douse me with your mop." _

_ "Ya two are lucky the ship ain't moving," Captain Tarnek sighed. "By the time ya stop chattering at each other like a couple of air headed dolphins we would 'ave already been over the 'orizine."_

_ "No captain, Sam here is a big clumsy sea cow. Chris is mermaid," another voice cut in._

_ "Shut your trap, Farn," Christiana snapped playfully, as one of her fellow crew mates, a tall and thin man with jet black hair, leaned over the railing._

_ Farn just grinned and laughed. Farn was one of her teachers on the ship, and the reason they were in these waters in the first place. Farn was born in the North. In a land called Celtica. When he was just a kid the ship he was a cabins boy was blow far South and run aground on a reef. The survivors were rescued by a ship which dropped them off in Captain's Tarnek's country where they made a living for themselves. Farn had joined Captain Tarnek's crew and because of his stories the Captain's curiosity had been sparked. Now they were heading North to find Farn's homeland and hopefully open the first trade route between the North and the South._

_ While they were on the ship Farn had been teaching her and some of the crew the common tongue used in his homeland. One that was similar to several of the countries they might encounter._

_ He tilted his head to the side. "Hmmm, well the mermaid image has been marred since you cut off all your hair."_

_ "It gets in the way when it is long," she grumbled as she swam up to the side of the ship and easily climbed up the side using a rope. Samson scrambled up after her._

_ As Christiana rung out her cloths she saw the Captain looking up at the sails, the jovial air gone from his demeanor. Frowning she came up beside him._

_ "Something wrong, Captain," she asked._

_ He looked down at her, forcing a smile. "Na, everythin's fine. Why don't ya and Samson go change ya cloths before ya catch a chill."_

_ "Aye, Captain," Samson said._

_ Before she could say anything Samson grabbed her arm and tugged her toward the hatch that led to the deck below. She and Samson shared a tiny cabin with a curtain draped over one corner to giver her privacy. Captain Tarnek had wanted to give her her own cabin but there simply was not enough room on the ship._

_ As Samson dragged her down the steps she looked over her shoulder to see Farn and the Captain conversing, both of them had anxious expressions and continued to glance at the slack sails and toward the South._

_ Tugging her hand free of Samson's grip she turned toward the south to see what they were looking at. At first she saw nothing, just the endless sea. But the horizon seemed a little distorted. She blinked. It almost looked like the sea was rising up in certain places, like mountains. But that was impossible, they had just come from that direction, there was no land that could possibly be visible without months of sailing._

_ They were not mountains, they were clouds, a darker shade of gray than the sea._

_ A storm was heading their way._

_ "Chris?" Samson said, voice concerned._

_ She shook her head, leading the way down the stairs._

_ "Its nothing."_

_ As they moved toward their cabin her mind filled with the image of the slack sails. There had been a breeze before, she remembered feeling it against her skin and tasting it on her tongue. Now it was gone. The air was completely still, even the sea was quiet, hardly a wave in it._

_ It was the calm before the storm._

**Sorry it has taken so long to get this up.**


End file.
